Beauty in Word and Heart
by IsabellaWinxSirenix
Summary: The Conclave of Lexicon, an underground organization of superhumans, are preparing their final plans to recreate Lexicon on Earth. Meanwhile, Jenny herself has fallen into depression after her friends have abandoned her, causing her to become a hollow shell of the vibrant Element of Love she once was. With the Symbols of Beauty disbanded, can Earth be saved? Beautiful Souls Part 2.
1. Prologue: Reunion (En)

**Hi everyone! It's my birthday today! No, I'm not pulling an Eileen on you, it really is my birthday. Yup, today's the 14th anniversary of when this fanfiction-obsessed, planet-destroying child came into the world. Praise! And yet, it's the one day my two best friends and my favorite cousins all 'happen' to be going out of town. Hmmm... suspicious much? I mean seriously, it's the one day of the year they all have plans on a school day. How does this happen?!**

**In other news, in a recent act of what I now believe is sheer insanity, I have just sent out a Facebook post revealing my once hidden hobby of being a fanfiction writer. No, I have not experienced any recent brain damage, thank you very much. **

**I did it mainly for two reasons. One was to prove that I really had written a novel-length story. (Although, this definitely does not entail novel-worthy quality, I can assure you.) The second was that since I had promised a few real-world people that I would mention their names in the story, I felt they should at least see what it was. Admittedly, it was a pretty difficult thing for me to do because, as you could assume of a girl who spends her leisure time writing for a little kids' show*, my ranking is very low on the social totem pole, and I don't think admitting this is going to win me any extra points.**

***For those who will mock me about this, let me just state that in my stories as a whole, all have been rated T, borderline M, and have had a city burn, a war, an attempted assassination, a plethora of guns and bombs, a planet exploding twice, and 15 actual character deaths, many of who were main characters.**

**So, why am I telling this to you, my readers? Well, it's just in the rare case that one of my real-world family members/friends actually reads this (Yeah, despite that whole emotional rant above, no one's probably going to care), you'll be prepared for a lot of weird.**

**Moving on...**

**Thanks for all the guesses on the villain! Unfortunately, none of you were right (Ha!)... well, kailaroseclover, you're ****_technically _****incorrect. However, as for Mulan, I'm still undecided about what I'll do with her so... hang on to that.**

**But anyway, enough of that! You came here for a story, and a story I shall provide! And so, without further ado, I present to you the prologue of the sequel to Believing in the Beautiful Things, Beauty in Word and Heart!**

* * *

_Love is a twisted thing. Some say love is something to be served on a silver platter, to be abused and taken advantage of without giving anything in return. These are the ignorant ones. Some say love is a perfect, immaculate gift, one they cannot possibly deserve and therefore will never attain. These are the naïve ones. Some say love is something to be searched for throughout the world in vain as it elusively slips away. These are the foolish ones._

_But I say love is something to be discovered in the most unexpected recesses of our daily lives. It is then unearthed like a precious gemstone being mined from the barren earth and then sculpted from our incessant time, labor, and devotion into a masterpiece, glorious and beautiful._

_And although we are the creators, we are the ones who become its servants, for true love is an infinite, never-ending sacrifice. No love is greater than another, for all love is infinite and precious. However, just as we serve love, so also does love gain strength from us as it endures through all the trials of a terrible and wonderful world to emerge stronger than ever before. And yet, at the same time, we rely on love for strength, for once it is experienced, it is impossible to let go. It becomes our entire world, not by shielding us in a restricting bubble, but by opening our eyes to see our lives in a new light, to see what was once hidden, to appreciate what was once overlooked, and to reveal the secret beauty in all things. In this way, love guides us through all storms and shelters us from drowning in the flames of our own hate. It is our crowning redemption, our pillar of light, and quite often, the only thing we are living for._

___And yet, at the same time, love can be our greatest downfall. The wrong kind of love, that of obsession, dominance, or greed, can spread from a tiny spark to a brutal, out-of-control inferno, which only succeeds in scalding all those involved. This is the greatest trap of love, to be so enamored in its rapture that it becomes one of selfishness, where you only think of the desires of yourself instead of the desires of many._

_____Because of this, sometimes the greatest test of love is to let go, to sacrifice all you hold dear for the sake of another, to throw yourself headfirst into a world of cruelty, and see if the spark of sacrificial love in your heart is enough to survive the flames._

-Believing in the Beautiful Things, Chapter 18 "Lessons in Love"

* * *

Date: October 30th, 2014 (approximately 1 and 2/3 years following the destruction of Planet Lexicon)

Location: Unknown

Mulan groggily opened her eyes to complete blackness. Not a single beam of light shed light upon her surroundings, making putting together the pieces of the previous days' events all the more challenging. The fallen angel tried to conjure up memories of what had led her to arrive here, alone and lost in this void of obsolete darkness, but her dizzying, pounding head was currently coming up blank. Mulan closed her eyes in pain as even the slightest movement sent spikes of agony shooting into her skull. She would have cried out in torment, but she had been trained for better than that. If any currently unseen enemies were lurking nearby, she would not give them the satisfaction of watching her openly suffer.

Taking several calming lungfuls of air in an attempt to quell the nearly overwhelming waves of nausea racking her entire body, Mulan forced her sluggish mind to focus on her current predicament. Since sight and movement would not aid her, she decided to rely on her other senses to gain an idea of what kind of environment she was in and thus form the basis of her escape.

Mulan could feel rough edges of brick assaulting her back, currently erected in a sitting position, most likely due to a wall. Judging by her painfully stiff muscles, her gnawing stomach constricting in her lower torso, and her sandpaper-dry throat, she guessed she had been trapped in this place for approximately four days, if not more. Of course, she would not die from this, although it would be very uncomfortable for an angel to be forever left in such a state. Besides that, Mulan could feel nothing else, save for a strange, coarse object covering the upper half of her head. Upon further investigation, she realized this must have been a blindfold, which explained the darkness.

Mulan tried to reach up to untie the blindfold but found her hands bound by rusty metal handcuffs. In spite of herself, Mulan let out a slight gasp upon realizing what the metal was.

_Blessed iron, _Mulan thought to herself. _That's quite out of the ordinary. Very few know of its properties, and much less have the audacity to use it to drain the energy of a fallen angel. I wonder…_

As Mulan further pondered her location, her nose picked up another piece of the puzzle, the acrid, wretched stench (at least to a fallen angel) of holy water.

_Well, this narrows down the possibilities significantly._

No sooner had Mulan reached this conclusion then her ears picked up the sound of light footsteps pounding against concrete, followed by a grating noise like a slab of stone being moved aside.

Before she had time to react, the pairs of hands roughly grabbed her arms and forcefully dragged her to her feet. With a few irritated (and, Mulan did not fail to notice, distinctly female) shouts and shoves in the back, the fallen angel was driven forward. Thinking it would not bode well given her current state of weakness to resist, Mulan willingly complied.

Through her blindfold, Mulan could see a torchlight dancing in front of her, a strange sight to be sure. Didn't these people know what century they were in? Unless… ah, now her list of captors had dwindled down to a handful.

Mulan would have attempted to interrogate her kidnappers, but she was currently trying to resist throwing up from the pain her throbbing head was inflicting. So the trek to the unknown destination remained utterly silent, although Mulan imagined her two captors glancing uneasily at one another, wondering why their prisoner was so compliant. But she was more than willing to toy with their minds; it would only provide her with an advantage.

Surprisingly, Mulan was not very humiliated by the fact that she, a once glorious angel, had been captured with such apparent ease. Perhaps it was because she had once experienced humiliation hundredfold, all other embarrassment paled in its light.

Even centuries later, Mulan could still remember the day, no matter how much she had wanted to burn the memory from her mind. Head bent as verbal abuse stabbed her heart… her world of Light obscured in tears… the verdict slamming down upon her like a punch to the chest… the excruciating pain of veins turning to wires, of feathers turning to metal gears as her divinity was stripped away, leaving her more machine than anything else… the feeling of desolation as the gates closed… her desperate, broken cries to her once-called brothers and sisters gone unheard… the feeling of forever falling… falling… falling…

Irritated with herself, Mulan pushed aside these memories. Now was not the time to wallow in self-pity; all it would do was make her weak. She had had over a millennia to reconcile with the verdict. She wouldn't cry. She would preserve her honor. So instead, Mulan marched onward in silence, which was only broken by the occasional drip of water, giving the impression of some underground cavern.

Suddenly, Mulan felt a hand violently push her onto the ground.

"Bow to the Lady!" commanded the woman on her right, with the woman on her right adding a kick for good measure.

_Ah, so that's who it is, _Mulan thought, recognizing the name. This was going to be emotionally difficult.

"Nikita! Eliza!" reprimanded a third woman in a decidedly British accent. "Is that any way to treat our guest? At least get rid of that wretched blindfold!"

With a loud rip, the cloth was torn, allowing Mulan to fully take in her surroundings. She was in a large rotunda in the center of what seemed to be a large underground labyrinth, lined with smooth, tan bricks. There were two young women next to Mulan, one with fiery red hair to match her blazing green eyes and the other with pale lavender hair, though both were dressed in black military attire and carried weapons, the redhead a sword and the other a ruby-hilted knife.

At the center of the sparsely decorated room, there was a grand marble throne, flanked by two flaming braziers and mounted on a three-step platform. Upon it sat a woman robed in a simple, dark red velvet gown with a silt in the side that reached all the way to her thigh. Pale golden hair fell as a backdrop around her body, the fair blonde locks nicely complimenting her hazel eyes, so different from her mother's crystal blue ones. She carried a golden scepter in her right hand to match the golden diadem, strikingly similar to Queen Islanzadi's silver counterpart, resting like a laurel upon her head. A satisfied smirk curled the masochist's lips as she looked down upon Mulan's suffering with pride. Looking up, Mulan ignored this blatant attempt to get her riled up as she noticed a teal ten-point star emblazoned above the throne, the final detail Mulan needed to confirm both her location and her captor, as if she wouldn't have recognized her regardless. After all, she looked just as she did over a hundred years ago, when the two immortals first met.

"The Conclave welcomes you, Mulan," the Lady greeted with false warmth as she rose from her throne and opened her arms in a gesture of greeting.

"I see not much has changed over the years," replied Mulan, humoring her. "Although it certainly has been so long since we last met, hasn't it, Little Lucie?"

* * *

**Yup! It's Miss Power's daughter! (For those who don't remember her, I suggest you reread the flashback in Chapter 18 of Believing.) I was especially surprised at you, TLM; after all, you guessed it in the first place, even before I had even presented the question!**

**_ And poor Miss Power/Vultora/Lucie! :'( ...Heyyyy, would the Conclave of Lexicon by any chance include MP's daughter Lucie? Is she still alive, being half-Lexiconian like she is, or what?_**

**Remember that little remark? ;D Anyway, for those of you who are groaning at having what appears to be a carbon-copy of Miss Power, let me assure you that Lucie is nothing like her mother. While their ultimate goals may be similar, Lucie's backstory, ****methods, ****personality, and emotions are very different and more well-rounded. In short, I intend for her to be everything Miss Power should have been in Believing but wasn't.**

**Anyway, as for the next update, it will not be this story, although the two are closely linked. Watch my profile for a new story on Wednesday, where I will also announce how these updates will work.**

**Birthday reviews? :D Oh, and speaking of which, there's one more thing I want to add. If any of my real-world acquaintances out there want to leave a Guest review down below, I will ask if you refer to me as Isabella (except my awesome, loving, beta-editing godfather, who has the right to call me Izzie :D), both to protect my identity as well as to differentiate my Facebook friends from my Fanfiction friends. My Fanfic friends can continue to nickname me Bella, since you're already accustomed to the name and plus, I honestly just like you better than some of my FB friends. I know I've said it before, but you're the ones who have stuck by me and encouraged me through my months of writing, and I will always thank you for it. You guys rock!**

**Love to all,**

**Bella**


	2. Shadow Girl (All)

**Happy Monday! Hopefully I can help you wake up this morning with a new chapter! If you haven't read Promise of the Abandoned: A Halfling's Tale, the spin-off to this story, I recommend you check it out just to figure out my update system for the next few weeks.**

* * *

"I've been hearing a remarkable amount of things about you lately, Mulan," said Lucie cheerfully. "I must say, you've come a long way from simply being a pawn in the Enclave's games. You're the sole angelic guardian of the Symbols of Beauty, I hear?"

"Your spies are wonderfully accurate as always," replied Mulan, growing tired of this façade of being cordial.

"Where are these three girls again?" asked Lucie patronizingly. "They sound quite talented."

"They're dead," Mulan stated bluntly. "You know that. After all, Their Earth, the Reality Earth, exploded more than a year ago."

"Oh, I know _that_," replied Lucie with a drawl, "but that doesn't mean the Symbols of Beauty are dead. I know for a fact that you never returned those girls to their own dimension, a dimension where Lexicon never existed, but simply transported them across the galaxy to this Earth, leaving their true planet to die from – oh, what was it again? – oh, right! Some strange, completely inexplicable meteors that came crashing down upon the poor realm. The funny thing was that they all collided to Earth in a split second, a time that perfectly aligns with a certain rip in the time-space continuum. I'd say they were from the shattered remains of an exploded planet, but the irony would be all too rich, wouldn't it?" Despite her lighthearted tone, there was a hidden layer of icy bitterness.

Mulan's silence confirmed Lucie's suspicions.

"So tell me, how did those darling girls react when you told them their entire planet had been blown to bits? Oh, that's right. You never told them, did you, Mulan?"

"I simply wanted to spare them," Mulan replied. "Besides, they could hardly tell the difference. This Earth is remarkably similar to Their Earth."

"Except for me," added Lucie.

"Yes, and thank goodness there's only one of you in the billions of vast dimensions."

"There's no need to be so hostile, Mulan!" Lucie teased upbraidingly. "I know you aren't pleased with the Conclave's motives, but—"

"That's an understatement," retorted Mulan, straining against the chains that bound her. "You're a society of Lexiconian-human hybrids thirsting for dominance over a planet that was never yours to begin with. Now, why would I be opposed to that?"

"You make it sound far more malicious than it really is," Lucie scolded. "Every single person in the Conclave of Lexicon has been carelessly tossed away because of a mistake of our parents, fools for fleeing their homeland to consort with humans without considering the dire consequences for their offspring, and we have had centuries to fester in that hopelessness of abandonment, of worthlessness. All we're doing is taking what should be rightfully ours. The humans are destroying this planet, anyways. They've proven beyond the shadow of a doubt that they are utterly incompetent of the power they've bestowed themselves, while we lurk as outcasts in the far recesses of the world. If we were in power, we could use our advancements in technology to recreate Lexicon on Earth, to form a Golden Age for this planet. Through our science, we could create everlasting peace, and I, the Neo Queen Islanzadi, would reign with benevolence for eternity. Is there anything despicable about that?"  
"We've had this discussion before, Lucie," replied Mulan, growing steadily more aggravated by this conversation. "It's been over a century, and yet my views still haven't changed. I'm not going to repeat myself for your sake."

"Oh fine, if you insist on being that way," she pouted as she lounged upon her throne. "So tell me," she continued, taking a new approach, "how is the Enclave doing?" asked Lucie politely, as if she were striking up conversation in a London parlor room over tea, rather than in a foreboding underground dungeon with an imprisoned fallen angel glaring daggers at her.

"Fine," Mulan replied tersely with gritted teeth. "The Enclave stays strong as always, and Daphne is in good health. There's not much else that's changed."

"Ah, so Daphne's still in charge then, is she?" remarked Lucie. "I suppose that's the reason why the Enclave is still in ruins after all these centuries. I'd encourage you to get some new blood in your principality, but when you've lived to see the dawn of time, change comes quite slowly. So Daphne's still quite busy then, I presume? It explains why she was so negligent about protecting you, the Guardian of Beauty, whom I thought would be one of the Enclave's top priorities." Lucie sighed. "What a shame. However, I must commend you for your own talent. It took my scouts months to track you down; that's no small feat, even for you, Mulan.

"Still, it begs the question as to how much value the Enclave sees in you. It can't have been easy to remain a prominent figure all the years, considering you being turned to a piece of clockwork in another dimension for all those millennia. However, I suppose safeguarding the single most powerful force in all the known dimensions does give you a bit of political edge, does it not?"

"I don't know why you're asking me these questions when you obviously know the answer," Mulan retorted testily, growing tired of the half-Lexiconian's mind games. "Despite our immortality, I for one have better things to do than waste my time in this filthy portion of the London Underground that you've sealed off for your own purposes, so why don't we stop the façade and cut right to the chase. You want to know the location of the Symbols of Beauty."

"Precisely, Mulan," replied Lucie as if she were a schoolteacher applauding her student for a correct answer.

"You know I'll never tell you," countered Mulan. "There is no level of torture that can break me."

"But you know I have the technology to make you tell, so I figured, since you don't want to 'waste time in the filthy London Underground' and all, that you'd make it easier on both of us and just tell me straight out."

"Fine," Mulan conceded reluctantly. "But first, answer me this: Are you going to use the Symbols of Beauty to exact revenge for the death of Planet Lexicon and your mother Vultora?"

"You really should give me more credit than _that_," said Mulan haughtily. "Even I would not stoop to such lowliness. And besides, Lexcion has received its due punishment for abandoning us, and Islanzadi, the woman who took Vultora away from me, has met her demise. What more could I desire? Everything's already been executed far more beautifully than I could have planned. In fact, that's the only reason I'm leaving them alive at all."

"Wait, you're not going to kill them?" asked Mulan in surprise and relief.

"Yes, I already said that, now hurry up and tell me where they are!" Lucie demanded, putting Mulan in a foul disposition once again.

Balling her hands into angry fists, Mulan spat out, "I only know the location of the Element of Love. Her name is Jennifer Angela Swan, age 15. She lives at 3945 Westchester Street in Denver, Colorado." She said it all very fast, as if that would make the ordeal less painful; afterwards, she hung her head in shame while her insides writhed with the guilt of betrayal. "There. Satisfied?"

"Very," Lucie trilled with a simpering smirk plastered on her face. Then addressing the two warriors guarding Mulan, she said, "Nikita, Eliza, take Mulan to her cell and then come back here immediately. I have an assignment for both of you."

Back in her cell, Mulan wanted to bang her head against the wall for her sheer stupidity. How could she have just outright told Lucie where Jenny was? Sure, she would have found out the truth eventually, but couldn't she have put up more of a fight, just to preserve her honor? Jenny was only a child; there was no way she could stand up against the kind of brutal assassins Lucie employed. She was doomed, she was going to die, and it would be all her fault—

_No, _the fallen angel reprimanded herself, cutting off her tirade of worry. _I can't panic, not now. If I can't get out of here, then I at least have to find some way to warn her, to protect her somehow._

Then it hit her. Of course, how could she have forgotten? Squeezing her eyes shut and hoping the creaking of her handcuffs would not alert any Conclave members, Mulan reached into her back dress pocket. The angel winced in pain as the metal sank deeply into her flesh. Mulan bit down upon her tongue in a desperate effort to silence her screams, and sure enough, she felt the bitter, salty taste of blood filling her mouth. Finally, with one last muted outcry, she pulled out a small handheld compact mirror, emblazoned with a five-point star surrounded by a diamond, the symbol of the Enclave. Flipping it open, Mulan craned her neck in a painful position to view her reflection in its silvery gaze. However, it was only a few moments before Mulan's bedraggled image was replaced with the perplexed face of a young woman, her midnight black hair swirling in some unseen breeze, her onyx eyes staring intently through the glass in disbelief.

"Mulan?" questioned the woman in a distinctly Asian accent. "What are you—"

"Shh," Mulan cut off, casting an uneasily glance toward the door. Praying in vain to a God who cast her away long ago that her cover would not be blown, she whispered hurriedly, "I don't have much time. Listen to me, Rebecca. I've been imprisoned by the Conclave, by Lucia personally. Don't bother trying to save me; you'll fail miserably, and besides, there are people in worse danger than I. You have to go find the Elements of Hope and Light. Their names are Katerina Margret Sullivan and Syrena Roselli Amoretto, and they live somewhere in the United States. I can't tell you where, in case someone's listening in, but I know you'll be able to find them. Tell them Mulan sent you, and they'll go with you. Take them to the Enclave where they'll be safe. They'll ask for a girl named Jenny, the Element of Love, but you mustn't go find her. Lucia knows where she is, and the Conclave will be watching her every move. We can't risk losing all three Elements by going back for her. Ask Daphne if you can send someone to watch over her for the time being.

"Don't reply to this message. If you get another transmission from this communicator, it's a hoax. Have faith, Rebecca. Thank you for doing this for me. As always, may the beauty of the stars guide and protect you from the powers of Heaven and the wrath of Hell."

Before giving Rebecca a chance to respond, Mulan flipped her communicator shut, ending the transmission.

With despondence, Mulan wearily glanced around her bare, frigid cell as the terrifying prospect of how long she would remain imprisoned her, or even worse, what horrid, unspeakable fates would befall her if she wasn't let to simply rot away in darkness, slowly began to dawn upon her with crushing reality.

_Stay in control, Mulan. Pull yourself together. Don't break, don't you dare break-! _

But for once, Mulan was tired of putting on an act. This would be one of the rare times in Mulan's life where she would break the flawless discipline of her emotions, where she would not run away from her feelings and simply surrender to them, allowing herself to remember what it meant to hurt, to cry, to care, and to love. Even as she thought these words, Mulan could feel the emotions bubbling up from a place deep within her very being, rising to the surface with fearsome, uncontrollable force.

Letting the centuries of composure fall away, the Angel of Time melted into tears.

* * *

Date: December 30th, 2014 (4 Months Later)

Location: Denver, Colorado

"Shut up!" Jenny cried angrily at her father in the heat of one of their now routine feuds. "You don't know me at all!"

"I know what's best for you, Jennifer," retaliated her father, a stern, stoical man with horn-rimmed glasses, a horribly bland tan suit, and too many PhD's to count. "And while your drawings are a nice little hobby for you, you could not possibly hope to build it into a respectable career, and besides, quite frankly, it's becoming unhealthy for you."

"So according to you, it's unhealthy to do something I love?" demanded Jenny.

"Do you think it's natural for a young girl to stay pent up in her room for hours on end, doing nothing but creating silly paintings?" Mr. Swan shouted, trying to get his stubborn daughter to see reason. "You've let both your friends and your academics fall to the wayside because of this obsession of yours. Just set down the paintbrush for a while and focus on what's really important, like getting a scholarship into college—"

"But what if I don't care about any of that?" Jenny screamed. "You just want me to become a dull, boring person like you who only ever sees sunlight through those dusty laboratory windows of yours! I'm doing what I love, and I won't let you take that away from me!"

"Jennifer, you're being unreasonable as always," Mr. Swan reprimanded sternly. "And I've had just about enough of your attitude, young lady…" The scientist's temper was just about to explode before he remembered himself. Closing his eyes and turning away from his daughter, he took a deep breath and sighed in exasperation to calm himself. Then, in a softer tone, Mr. Swan continued, pleading, "Please, Jenny, this isn't like you. You used to be a nice, happy girl, and frankly, Mother and I are worried about you. Ever since you became a teenager—"

"Ugh, how many times are you going to say that?" demanded the 15-year-old girl. "You say it as if being a teenager is a curse or something. If only you weren't such a sentimental fool—"

"Is it foolish for a father to simply desire a daughter who loves him once more?" said Mr. Swan, let his anger seethe to a boil once more. "You know you break my heart every time we argue like this. You used to be so compliant, my little girl—"

"Well guess what?" shouted Jenny, injected her words with a burning hatred. "I'm not your little girl anymore! Why can't you accept that? What was so good about her that you can't appreciate the person I've become? Why can't you just love me for who I am?"

"Jennifer, I won't tolerate that tone from you. Ever since the incident with the Russian kidnapper two years ago, and especially in the past few months, your attitude has steadily worsened to the point where I simply don't know what to do with you anymore. I really think you should at least consider talking to Dr. Knox about—"

"I'm not crazy!" Jenny burst out in anger, tears welling from her eyes as her voice nearly cracked from volume. "I don't need a psychiatrist, and certainly don't need you! Everyone thinks I'm stupid, that I can't do anything by myself, that I'm a child that needs to be scolded, or worse, a problem and a nuisance that no one cares enough about to deal with. Well, I know what I want to do with my life, and I don't give a damn about what you think, because I never, _never _want to be cursed with the shame of being just like you!"

And with that, Jenny stormed from the room and locked herself in her room as she let the steam of the argument cool a bit. Sure, she hadn't meant to say those things quite so harshly, but she still meant them all the same. She didn't want to grow up in her parents' shadow. She wanted to be her own person, peruse her own dreams. She didn't want her parents demanding her to take on a 'sensible career.' Painting was what she loved, after all. Sure, it wasn't the most common pursuit, but if she had talent, why couldn't she show it to the world?

Jenny cast her gaze over the dozens of paintings she had created over the years littering nearly every visible space. There was a visible distinction between the ones from her early years and her more recent projects, besides improvement in technique, of course. Her earlier paintings largely consisted of bright pastel colors adorned with flowers and hearts, as was typical of a young, carefree girl. In contrast, the paintings from the past few months had a considerably darker, sinister tone, filled with shadows, demons of ash, post-apocalyptic backgrounds, and more than a little blood. Most of these featured little girls reaching out mournfully to the audience with their eyes brimming with sorrow as they lamented their terrible world of which there was no escape.

Keeping the lights off, Jenny retreated to the very corner of her room, where she curled herself into a ball and watched the flickering noonday sunlight stream through the window. The darkness and shadows pressed down upon her, but she kept her eyes open, wanting to take in her fill of the desolate girls in her paintings, her sisters, for since they were crafted from Jenny's sorrow, so too did they share in it. Despite the disturbing aspect of the Shadow Girls, as Jenny liked to call them, she found them morbidly beautiful and comforting. This sweet sorrow had become something Jenny craved, and so she had steadily created more Shadow Girls. This was the only time when Jenny truly felt happy, for doing what she believed she was destined to do and finding comfort in it helped chase away the inexplicable shroud of darkness that covered her. She created more and more, until their faces covered every inch of Jenny's room.

In fact, the only patch of space on her wall that didn't contain a Shadow Girl was a full-sized poster of Hatsune Miku, a Japanese pop singer and Jenny's personal idol. What made Miku so special to Jenny was the fact that she was not a person at all, but rather a digitally created, holographic vocaloid. She was a mere computer program, and yet she had attracted thousands of passionate fans from across the globe through her heartfelt songs, or at least, songs that she claimed to be hers but were in fact submitted by hundreds of teenage girls, all with flesh and blood, hopes and dreams. Miku was less than a human being, but she didn't care. In fact, she was revered as a goddess, human-esque in form and yet able to transcend human limitations. Her life was empty, but this didn't matter. She has everything she was programmed to desire, and the thought of more does not cross her mind. The love of a million fans kept her safe in a bubble of ignorance and naivety and will for all eternity.

Jenny wondered what that would be like. All children were sheltered by their parents with this selfsame bubble, but due to their innate curiosity and insatiable desire for knowledge, they pop the bubble, wanting to experience a new world. What would it be like to forever remain in an oblivious shell of protection, where love and happiness were all you ever knew? For it is only in retrospect that a person regrets the years of their youth, not during the experience. A child, or anyone for that fact, could remain perfectly at peace, oblivious to their own ignorance. Some would doubt the merits of a perfect life of naivety, but Jenny believed that if you were content, then perhaps that bubble was placed there for a reason.

Sighing, Jenny turned away from the turquoise-haired vocaloid, her teal, pupil-less eyes staring back with a blank happiness. Jenny flipped open her laptop and, like she did every day, checked her inbox for mail, and as always, there was no response from either Kerry or Syrena. It had been nearly four months since her last message, forever left unanswered, and the 15-year-old had been forced to come to the rather depressing conclusion that her two friends had moved on in the past two years and had completely forgotten her.

She had thought of sending them another email, but her pride would not let her stoop to begging for a new lost companionship, and besides, Jenny's mind cringed at the prospect of what such a message would sound like. _Hey, it's me, Jenny. You know, the girl you went to save the universe and have that life-changing, soul-merging thing with. That was kind of a pretty big deal. Do you remember that? No? Oh, ok then. _

Why hadn't they tried to make contact with her? What could've happened to the two of them? Had they just abruptly decided to move past that entire chapter of their lives? Did they hate her for some reason? Or… was it possible that Jenny had simply imagined everything that happened to her, that none of it was real? No, that thought was too painful to bear. It couldn't be possible.

Holding back tears, Jenny dejectedly leaned her head against the cool windowpane as raindrops beat down from a stark grey sky. _I know I'm not crazy. I know what I saw, what I heard, what I felt. That was too beautiful to just be some sort of fever dream. Please, Kerry, Syrena, I… I need you. I can't go on like this without you. I don't want to be a Shadow Girl anymore. Help me, please. I feel like I'm losing my mind. You're the only way I can know for sure if any of this is real. _

_I can hear the whispers now. They're calling me back to them. _Just before she was pulled back into the darkness of her own mind, Jenny cried out in desolation, "Oh Kerry, Syrena. Where _are _you?"

* * *

Location: Fukuoka, Japan

Date: December 30th, 2014

"Kerry!" called Syrena, her voice ringing throughout the library. "I can't believe you're still set on doing this! I've told you, you're wasting your time!"

"No, I'm not," Kerry responded as she bookmarked a page from one of the dozens of books stacked precariously on the reading table. "If we're going to be living in Japan, we should at least try to know the language." Annoyed by the interruption, the 15-year-old returned to deciphering the Japanese characters, complete with an index of English translation on the other page.

"Why are you reading it in Romaji?" asked Syrena once again, peering over Kerry's should to take a closer look. "It's much better to learn with English letters, so you can see how the words are pronounced."

"Well, you wouldn't know, would you?" retorted Kerry in a tone that to an outsider would sound bitter and hostile, but was teasingly sarcastic to these pair of inseparable friends. "You spend all your time hanging out with Rebecca and watching TV instead of studying like you should. Now please, Syrena, let me concentrate."

Completely ignoring her request, Syrena snatched the textbook from Kerry's hand. "Fine, but at least let me quiz you before I go." Taking Kerry's silence as a form of consent, she skimmed through the list until she found a word. "How do you say the word 'pretty'?"

"I know this," Kerry muttered to herself. "It's ono… umo…"

"The word you're thinking of is 'omoi,' which is incorrect anyway," interrupted Syrena, slamming the book shut. "Omoi means 'dear,' whereas bishoujo means pretty."

"How… how did you know that?" asked Kerry.

Syrena smiled in triumph. "I heard someone say it this morning while I helped Rebecca with her errands. I wasn't quite sure what it meant, but then I heard it again on TV, and I used context clues to put it together. See, that's the right way to learn a language. You have to go out and hear it spoken in daily life, not sit around reading it in these dusty old books. That's how I learn to communicate with people. You just pick up some words or phrases and say what sounds right."

"But aren't you scared of talking to random strangers in a language you barely know?" asked Kerry.

"No, not really," replied Syrena casually. "Actually, it's pretty fun. You know, around here, they can easily tell if you're American. Everyone's so excited to meet me, and they've even asked me to teach them a word or two in English or practice speaking in English to me. It's really cool. Plus, watching TV, hearing people have actual conversations with visual cues helps a lot."

Kerry sighed in resignation. "Perhaps you're right, Syrena," she conceded.

"Excellent!" Syrena clapped. "So _now _will you watch _Puella Magi Madoka Magica_ with me?"

"Okay, fine," said Kerry. "It's not like there's much else to do here, anyway."

"I know!" Syrena complained. "There's no Internet and no phones! How do these people survive?"

"This is a top-secret headquarters, not a five-star hotel, Syrena," Kerry reminded. "We can't use electronics to communicate here, otherwise the Conclave will be alerted of where the Enclave is."

"I know, but I just want to at least talk to my family and let them know I'm alive," cried Syrena. "I miss them so much."

Kerry knew the feeling. She remembered that night, four months ago, when Rebecca, carrying Syrena in tow, had broken through Kerry's window in the middle of the night, relay Mulan's grave message, and order her to pack up the bare essentials needed for a 12-hour flight to Japan. It was in this manner that Kerry and Syrena had been so rudely torn away from the lives they had once known. There had been no goodbyes to family, no resignation from high school, nothing. They had simply vanished like phantoms in the night, letting Kerry's dream to earn a scholarship to Harvard and Syrena's dream to win in the state swim team crumble into dust.

"I miss Jenny, too," added Kerry. "I wonder how she's doing without us. The poor girl must be so worried; we haven't responded to her email for months."

"There's no need to get all worked up; I think she'll be fine on her own," said Syrena. "I hate to say it, but she's probably forgotten all about us by now. We're probably nothing more two strange girls on the Internet in her mind. I suppose that's for the best, though."

Kerry was just about to respond when the door to the library swung open to reveal Rebecca, donning a ruffled blue skirt and matching pink, silk, cashmere blouse, with two thin slits in the back to accommodate for her majestic clockwork wings.

"Keiko-chan! Sayuri-chan!" Rebecca called, using their Japanese names. "Daphne-sama wants you to report to her immediately."

"Coming, Reika-san!" called Syrena, mercilessly dragging Kerry from her seat. The two girls obediently followed Rebecca out of the library and into the main hall.

There was nothing particularly noticeable about this corridor, save for the lack of decoration. All the walls were painted a bland white with grey doors identified with gold emblazoned numbers leading off to other areas of the Enclave headquarters. Occasionally, a fallen angel would walk past, intent on his or her work, and as usual, Rebecca would smile and wave or shout a cheerful greeting. This upbeat attitude was one of the many reasons Syrena admired Rebecca, whom she had spent most of her time with (except for Kerry) during her now four-month stay at the Enclave. During that time, even though it was not her assigned duty, she was the one who would take time out of her busy schedule each day to spend time with the girls, ensure they were well-cared for, and basically act as a second mother. However, Syrena could not for the life of her think of Rebecca, despite being centuries older than her, as anything other than a child. Often times, Syrena thought with a sinking pang in her chest that Rebecca would prove to be a far better Element of Light than she herself could ever hope to be.

Pushing aside these dark thoughts, Syrena glanced out one of the many windows of the Enclave. It was a beautiful day once again, even with snow blanketing everything in sight. Back in Georgia, snow was rare, so to see it in such abundance was fascinating to say the least. The sight of the snow twinkling like stars fallen to earth, how it draped itself in great dollops over the spindly tree branches, and the way the whole earth seemed to fall still in wonder of these small, powdery crystals.

Syrena would probably not have noticed this if it hadn't been for Jenny. Oh, how she missed Jenny. That girl may have been foolish, but she had a way of opening Syrena's eyes to the world, show her things she probably wouldn't have given a second glance, and help her understand that oftentimes the purest kind of beauty comes in the faintest whispers of the wind that only a token few can see, and that one should always look for, take notice, and appreciate them.

"Okay girls, remember that it is always polite for someone else to introduce you," coached Rebecca, reminding them once again of proper etiquette in Japanesse society. "Also, the Japanese don't like to say no, so make sure to always phrase your questions in a way that allows them to say yes. And never frown while someone is speaking; otherwise, they think you're disagreeing with them—"

"Rebecca," Syrena said in a lighthearted tone, interrupting Rebecca's long, nervous rant, "didn't you say Daphne spent her first couple centuries on Earth in London, just like you and Mulan? Does it really matter if our manners are perfect? And besides, it's not like you to be this nervous."

"No, I'm perfectly fine," replied Rebecca as she plastered a falsely reassuring smile on her face. "I… I just…"

"Rebecca," began Kerry, being the more observant of the two, "Why does Daphne want to meet with us?"

"Well, isn't it obvious?" laughed Rebecca. "You're the Elements of Hope and Light. I'm sure Daphne will be fascinated by the two of you."

"But we've been here for nearly four months," countered Kerry, growing more suspicious by the minute. "If Daphne wanted to just get to know us, wouldn't she have done it within the first few days of our arrival?"

"Well, you'll definitely have the opportunity to ask her, because we're here," said Rebecca. Whirling them around to face her, the angel sized up their appearance, Kerry in a simple cotton T-shirt and jeans, her hair knotted into a messy ponytail, and Syrena in pants and a wool cardigan, her long pale blonde hair billowing loosely around her figure, to make sure they were presentable for the leader of the Enclave. The motherly angel quickly straightened their pins, a star and diamond emblem, symbolizing their support of the Enclave. Then, without further notice, Rebecca took off rather hurriedly down the main corridor and out of sight, leaving Kerry and Syrena alone.

The two teenagers stood nervously at the door, wondering whether or not they should knock, when all of a sudden, they heard a conversation leak through the two rosewood doors.

"…just received reports from Brazil, Daphne-sama," said a high-pitched voice, muffled through the door. Kerry and Syrena perked up at this; maybe now was a chance for them to finally get some well-deserved information. Moving closer to the door, the words slowly became clearer. "More than 500 pounds have been mined in the past month alone. It's currently being shipped to headquarters for refinement."

"Wonderful, Noemi," congratulated another woman, speaking in authoritative yet dulcet tones. "At this rate, we should have enough dynamite for the mission within the next few weeks."

Syrena took one more step towards the doorway, desperate to hear more, when all of a sudden, the handles swung open, activated by motion detectors, just like the entrance to a grocery store.

Immediately, the conversation short-circuited, but to their credit, the two fallen angels were quick to recover from surprise and don a mask of formality.

"Daphne-sama," announced an unseen voice, unnerving the two wiki girls until they spotted another fallen angel, Noemi, from what Syrena remembered, transitioning flawlessly as if there had been no interruption at all, "may I present Katerina Sullivan-san and Syrena Amoretto-san. Ladies, may I present you to Daphne-sama."

Now, normally it would have been polite for Kerry and Syrena, being Daphne's subordinates, to bow in respect, but all foreign manners were forgotten as the two teenagers laid eyes on what was probably the single most beautiful woman they had ever seen.

No words could adequately describe the Conclave leader's appearance, but it was safe to say that Daphne was model-perfect to say the least. From her billowing auburn hair streaked with gold that fell in soft waves to her ankles, to her flawless complexion, highlighted by her simple crème dress, to her hazelnut eyes that pierced the soul, to her majestic silvery-gold wings to contrast the dull bronze of the other fallen angels. And yet, there was something about her beauty that transcended appearance, something ethereal and divine and magical. She wore no crown, no symbol of her leadership role, and yet she radiated her status so profoundly that her importance could not be denied.

Noticing the girls' awe, Noemi whispered in amusement, "Daphne used to be an Archangel before she fell. Despite her rebellion, she still has the slightest drop of divine blood. That's why she looks so drop-dead gorgeous. Maybe you can convince her to ditch the Enclave and model instead."

Kindly smiling, Daphne rose from her seat farthest from the door at the head of rosewood round table. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Sullivan and Miss Amoretto." Underneath the centuries of Japanese dialect, there were the faint traces of a British accent in her voice. "Please," she continued, opening her arms in welcome as she gestured to the chairs on her immediate right and left, "have a seat."

Tentatively, the girls sat down, feeling thrown off guard by Daphne's attitude. What could this meeting possibly be about?

"I've been wondering what to do with you for quite some time," Daphne began with an exasperated sigh, skipping the typical pleasantries. "Mulan left us in a certain predicament, leaving you two in our care. It's caused the Enclave problems, to say the least, and up until now, I simply did not know what to do with you. My advisors suggested that I simply oust you from the Enclave. I, however, have come to a different conclusion.

"Uselessness is not tolerated in the Enclave, and with you two being the Elements of Hope and Light, this is all the more true. For a long time, there have been things the Enclave has not been able to do, simply because of our lack of human mercenaries. Therefore, you shall agree to this:

"Katerina Sullivan and Syrena Amoretto, if you wish to remain within the Enclave's protection, you shall swear, by oath of blood, to serve the Enclave in all manners commanded, whatever the price, even if that price is death."

* * *

**I promise the next few chapters will be better; this one was simply a set up for the three simultaneous plot archs of this story. These are the Jenny Arch, the Conclave Arch, and the Kerry/Syrena Arch. Jenny's will have most of the emotion and inner struggle, Kerry and Syrena's will contain the driving force of action, and the Conclave arch will provide some background information and bridge the prior two archs. Because of this, I'm estimating this story to reach about 100,000-150,000 words and span the entire summer, most likely wrapping up in September.**

**Thank you so much for the reviews! Please let me know of ways I can improve! Chapter 2 of A Halfling's Tale will most likely be posted on Friday, and Chapter 2 of this story will come next Wednesday.**

**Love to all,**

**Bella**


	3. The Trials of Love (J)

**Hello again! Hope everyone had a fantastic Memorial Day weekend! During that time, I completed an entire chapter in just 2 1/2 days. Oh God, summer will have me dolling out chapters by the hour.**

**Anyway, I know in some of the reviews, people have been asking me where are the WordGirl characters. And this makes perfect sense, seeing as this is a WG fanfiction. Well actually, I was torn between posting this story here or on FF's sister site, FictionPress. To be honest, WordGirl herself and one other WG character will only be in three or four scenes in this entire story. However, believe it or not, WordGirl has a pivotal role in all of this, which will only make sense towards the end. Also, this story also is paving the way for Beauty Shines in Little Miracles, where WG will co-star in a plot arch. So in short, yes, she and another WG character will make an appearance; however, if you're looking for a very WG-heavy fanfiction, I suggest you turn back now.**

**Time to take care of the legal work! Before I start, here are a few notices I forgot to put at the beginning of Chapter 1, notices that apply to the entire story:**

**NOTICE: This literary work contains violence, weapons, death, and other themes that most parents would find unsuitable for children under the age of ten. Reader discretion is advised.**

**NOTICE: All religious claims, opinions, and interpretations in this work are from a purely literary standpoint and should not be taken as factual. No religious discrimination or undermining is intended. The author deeply apologizes for any offense and wishes to extend a sincere respect for all religious or non-religious beliefs.**

**NOTICE: In no way does this literary work endorse untreated depression and/or suicidal thoughts or actions. Both are very severe medical illnesses, and the author strongly encourages any reader with serious thoughts regarding either of these topics to immediately consult a professional or authority figure.**

**You have been warned...**

**By the way, for all you bronies out there, this chapter contains two subtle MLP references! See if you can find them, and the first person ****_with an account _****who answers correctly in the reviews will receive via PM a sneak peak at the next chapter!**

* * *

The irritating sound of an alarm clock abruptly slashed through Jenny's peaceful dreams. Her bleary eyes snapped open with a start, and she had to rub them a few times before she could make out the neon clock on her nightstand flashing 8:00.

"Gah! Why did Liza insist on meeting this early?" Jenny groaned. "It's a Saturday on Christmas break, for goodness sake!"

Nearly tumbling out of bed, Jenny started to get ready, with her first task being to straighten her unruly reddish-brown curls so that it would drape itself stylishly around her upper torso. Once that was done, she hurriedly pulled on a strapless, frilly, yellow tank top with a neckline that would never be allowed at her high school, St. Francis Preparatory College, and her favorite pair of skinny jeans. After taking five seconds to cram a granola bar in her mouth, Jenny slipped on her pair of knee-length, fleece-lined boots, pulled her cashmere crème jacket tighter around her body, scribbled a quick note to her parents, and rushed out the door into the drifting Colorado snow.

The tiny diamond fragments swirled playfully around Jenny's face as they affectionately nestled themselves into her hair, but Jenny had no time to admire the scenery; she was into much of a rush. Muttering a quick curse at all the grey slush in the streets, Jenny made her way into the center of the bustling town, lined with rows upon rows of quaint little shops, many still donning merrily twinkling lights from the holidays. It was the kind of boardwalk that set everything in a soft, rosy glow as the quiet town lay tranquil in the early hours of the morning, nestled in the gently falling snow. It was truly a postcard-worthy image.

Jenny marched past all of this without a second glance, except to pause in front of a store window to check her appearance in the reflection and smear a bit of lip-gloss on her chafing mouth or to make a mental note to bribe her parents for money to buy a certain handbag or dress that caught her eye. After passing the line of stores, she instead on her destination, an ice-cream parlor at the end of the boardwalk called Aunt Diana's, a personal favorite hangout of Jenny and her friends.

The bell tinkled as Jenny walked through the door. Brushing the snow off her jacket, she flashed a pink-cheeked grin at the guy manning the cash register before turning to wave at her two friends sitting at the far side of the parlor.

"What's up, girls?" asked Jenny flippantly as she slid into the seat next to Addison, a perky girl with bouncing auburn curls, who was slurping a strawberry shake. Her hazelnut eyes lit up with satisfaction at finally having her best friend arrive. She and Jenny were always on good terms with each other. Across for her sat Lisa, a quiet, collective girl who was absently braiding her perfectly straight ivory hair that hung in curtains around her face while her sea-blue eyes gazed blankly into space, a sign that she was deep in thought. As to her friendship with Jenny, it was a complicated one, with the two girls constantly at each other's throats, often for no reason at all. Still, in spite of this, Jenny considered Lisa a friend.

"Nothing much," said Addison casually.

"Well, I enjoy a fruit smoothie as much as the next girl, but it's totally not worth waking up at 8 in the morning on a Saturday. Sorry, Addison, but 'nothing much' won't cut it today."

"Jeez, Jenny, you'd sleep in all day if it wasn't for us," joked Lisa with a slight lisp in her voice that irritated Jenny to no end. "You're the freaking laziest person I know. Did you even start that English essay, or were you too busy sleeping in class, too?"

"Nope," replied Jenny with a nonchalant flip of her hair. "I'm just paying Jessica to do mine. Seriously, stop being such an egghead and make her do it. It's not healthy for you. I swear, girl, one of these days a chef will see you walking down the street and cook you into an omelet."

"Oh wow," said Lisa in a poor attempt at sarcasm as she tried to conceal her hurt, "Thanks for being _so _supportive, Jenny."

But Jenny wasn't even listening, nor would she have probably cared anyway. The only reason she and Lisa were even friends was because Lisa had no one else to turn to. She was the oddball of the class, the one no one wanted to be around. Unfortunately for Jenny and Addison, Lisa had inexplicably clung to them and would not relent, even when they told her in the most forceful way possible to go away. She was that desperate for friends. Eventually, Jenny and Addison had accepted that nothing could be done to dissuade her, so she was allowed to join the group, thus forming their five-month long 'friendship.'

"So why didn't you call me back last night, Addison?" asked Jenny. "You were supposed to call at eight."

"Sorry, Mom got back really late last night, so we were eating dinner then," Addison explained. "She was working overtime again, and of course, she was ticked off by the time she came home. It's been weeks, and she still hasn't been able to sell that house over on Harlem. She's starting to worry she'll lose her job if she doesn't fill her quota. And plus, I was so sore from our volleyball game."

"Oh yeah, how was it?" asked Jenny, taking the initiative to steer the conversation away from the touchy subject of Addison's money problems with her mother's job as a realtor.

"What do you think?" Addison replied teasing. "We lost, of course. We've only won two games the whole season."

"Darn! I wanted to come and see you guys fail!" joked Jenny. "Wait, what was the score? Please tell me it was a crushing defeat."

"Ugh, you have no idea. We were playing against St. Celestine, if that helps any. I think the final score was 4 to 21."

"No, it wasn't," said Lisa. "It was 3 to 21. I remember how I was thinking of how 3 was a multiple of 21."

"No, it's not!" said Jenny. "4 is a multiple of 21!"

Lisa sighed. "Jenny, it is nothing short of a miracle that you got into Trig this year. I'm sorry to say this, but you're… how should I say this?... a few crayons short of a box."

"Says the girl who thought AD stood for Anna Dominoes!" retaliated Jenny.

Lisa's usually pallid cheeks switched to red faster than a traffic light at the mention of last week's embarrassing little incident. "I thought we agreed not to mention that again," she said angrily through gritted teeth.

"Sorry, darling," said Addison, "but we simply have to keep bringing it up. It's the only way you'll ever learn. But seriously, I thought you were Catholic! Everyone's supposed to know that!"

"Lisa, it was _Kelly _asking you what it meant," added Jenny. "That had to have been a sign telling you that you were walking into a trap. Next time, if someone asks you something like that, just nod your head and act like you understand. Trust me, it's much easier for everyone that way."

"I wasn't thinking clearly," murmured Lisa defensively as she teetered on the verge of tears. "It was early in the morning, and I hadn't slept well."

"Which brings us back full circle!" announced Jenny with triumph. Turning back to Addison, she asked, "Why did you make me wake up so early today?"

"Okay, fine, I'll tell you," said Addison, her voice brimming with excitement. "We're meeting up with Nicole and Tess Thompson, the two new sister transfer students from England!"

"Really?" said Jenny with equal anticipation. "That's so cool! When are they coming?"

"Turn around," said Addison by way of answer. The trio simultaneously swiveled around in their seats to greet the newcomers.

Immediately, Jenny could tell that the two girls were distinctly in contrast with each other. One, a statuesque teenager with flaming crimson hair, walked with a confident swagger in her step, while her sister, a delicately built girl with pale lavender hair had a more calculating demeanor, her movements infused with the menacing stride of a stalking predator. The red-haired girl was brash and easily noticeable to all in the vicinity; the latter seemed to blend into the shadows as she probed the area with her piercing blue eyes. If Jenny was just looking at a picture of the two, all that would have really struck her was their nearly unearthly beauty, but there was something about seeing someone in person that provided so much more. Right now, Jenny felt as if their very presence had made the room ten degrees cooler, and a malevolent aura clung to their skin.

"Hi!" Addison exclaimed at once, putting on that energetic smile she always had upon the sisters' arrival.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," said the red-haired girl politely yet boldly in a perfect British accent as she extended her arm in a firm handshake. The lavender-haired girl smiled shyly as she too shook hands with Addison.

"Is it me, or does something seem… off about those two?" Lisa asked in a whisper to Jenny, both of who had not risen from their seats.

In a rare moment of agreement, Jenny responded sincerely, "Definitely."

"You must be Addison, right?" asked the redhead girl. "My name's Nicole, and this is Tess. We're so sorry we're late."

"No, it's perfectly fine!" replied Addison warmly, waving off their concern. "It's only natural that you two would have a bit of trouble getting around in a new town."

Grateful to get out of the cold, the two sisters slipped into adjacent seats, where they shed their bulky winter coats and scarves to reveal the redhead sporting a faded blue peace tee and jeans, and the lavender haired wearing a vintage lace dress with matching leggings.

Upon noticing her two friends out of the corner of her eye, Addison said, "Oops, I almost forgot! These are my two friends, Lisa and Jenny."

The two American girls rose and exchanged the typically pleasantries with the foreign sisters, although they were considerably more reserved than Addison. When Jenny shook Nicole's hand, it felt as though she had dipped her hand in ice-cold water, despite the warmth of her skin temperature. And besides that, Jenny did not fail to notice that Nicole's handshake felt strangely empty, like one shaking a baby rattle in expectance of hearing the metal ball's clatter, only to find the plastic toy devoid of anything but empty air. It was definitely puzzling, and something Jenny pondered all throughout their conversation.

For the most part, the conversation mainly consisted of trivial things: likes and dislikes, popular places in England, favorite music artists, and other things that held no interest to Jenny. And so, the Element of Love instead decided to observe how the two sisters acted and discovered an interesting dynamic. Nicole was clearly more talkative and outgoing, with Tess shyly speaking only when necessary. This did not, however, give of a feeling of superiority or insubordination; rather, they acted like two parts of the same whole, with Nicole's piece just happening to contain the mouthpiece. Also, despite Nicole's obvious assertive nature, she often glanced hesitantly at her sister, as if she were unsure of how to respond and looking for approval, with which Tess would respond with a subtle glance or tilt of the head. Nicole also seemed to be strangely concerned with Tess' eating habits, as she was constantly checking to see if she had eaten enough, requesting seconds, and even grabbing her plate to shove its contents in the trash, all of which Tess responded with a mere shrug of indifference. Then, there were also a multitude of little quirks that Jenny picked up, like how Nicole seemed to squirm restlessly when sitting in place for too long and would place her hand on her hip in frustration, whereas Tess would sit perfectly erect as her observant eyes darted around the room and thread her fingers through her hair whenever she was nervous. Despite Jenny's suspicion, she found this all fascinating. This combined with her initial distrust of the two caused Jenny to be largely detracted from the conversation.

This behavior did not go unnoticed by Nicole and Tess, and so, in a gesture of politeness, the two tried their best to rope her in the discussion, scattering in questions specifically directed to Jenny. Each time, however, Jenny responded with curt, rude responses, which always earned her an expression of confusion from the sisters, a upbraiding yet understanding look from Lisa, and a discreet kick in shin from Addison. After about the fifth icy retort from the cross Element of Love, the two mutually decided to end their attempt to break the surface of what they saw as an irritable, flippant, and brash personality.

Whenever Jenny acted in this way, Addison, who had assumed the role of hostess, tried her best to smile through the awkward situation that would ensue, all the while plotting Jenny's horrible demise behind her increasing fake smile as her irritation built up pressure inside to rival that of a volcano.

Finally, when Addison's temper (and arsenal of covert, under-the-table kicks) had reached her peak, she said, her teeth clenched tight in the most inauthentic smile as her entire body prepared to snap with tension, "Would you excuse us for a second?" Then, rising from her seat, she latched hold of Jenny's arm and, nails digging into Jenny's skin to show her annoyance, practically hauled Jenny into the direction of the bathroom at the back of the ice cream parlor. Her face was steeled in hardened stone, which Jenny knew couldn't have been a good sign. Jenny could almost feel Addison's anger burn sizzling holes in her skin as they marched wordlessly to the bathroom.

As soon as the boom of the door being slammed shut faded away, there was nothing but silence. Releasing her vice-like grip on Jenny's arm, Addison's hands latched hold of the dingy bathroom sink. Through the cracked, graffiti-splattered mirror, Jenny could see that Addison had her eyes squeezed shut as she attempted and failed to let a series of deep, steading breaths disperse the anger tensing her muscles and soothe her raging mind. Jenny could almost see the anger bubbling like magma beneath her skin. It didn't take a genius to figure out what this meant. Massaging her arm, still throbbing with pain, Jenny braced herself for the moment when the calm before the storm would break to give way to a raging volcanic explosion.

"What _is _your problem, Jennifer?!" Addison demanded, putting her hands on her hips as she faced her. She hadn't been shouting; she had enough awareness of her location to curb her temper that much. Still, to Jenny, it felt as if Addison had blown out her eardrums as the verbal retaliation commenced. "It's not your time of the month, since that doesn't effect you nearly this bad. No one ordered raspberry ice cream, and it's not the 6th of the month, both of which are things you inexplicably loathe. You're not pulling one of those really weird personality switches you sometimes have with Lisa, either. So I guess today is Jenny-Wakes-Up-and-Decides-To-Tick-off-Everyone-Wi thin-a-Five-Mile-Radius Day, because guess what, you're exceeding in that with flying colors. Ugh, I just don't get it!"

Up until this point, Jenny had been perfectly stoical as she allowed her friend to blow off some steam, but now, she just couldn't take it. Blurting out, not in anger, but rather in a desperate attempt to confirm her suspicions and sanity, she cried, "But haven't you noticed anything strange about those two?! Something that's not quite normal, not quite right?"

"Well, of course I have!" replied Addison, as if it should have been obvious. Jenny breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn't been imagining things. "That cold, dark feeling you get around them? Yeah, I'm not exactly that unobservant. But still, at least I have the prudence not to be openly hostile about it like you!

"I don't even like them that much, but I have to be friendly with them. They're just moving here, and my mom thinks they'll be looking at that house she's been trying to sell. She asked me to get on their good side, make it easier for her to get in a sale before she _loses her job_, but apparently, none of that matters to you!"

Realizing her dreadful mistake, Jenny reached a comforting arm around Addison's shoulder and said, "I'm so sorry, Addison; I had no idea. I promise I'll be more civil now, okay? I know it must be really stressful for you, and so I'll do my best to help whenever I can. Believe me, it does matter to me; _you _matter to me. It's okay, don't cry."

Wiping away a few stray tears, Addison sniffed, "I'm fine now. Thanks. I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have been so angry, not when I didn't even explained it to you or Lisa. I understand there's something off about those two, and that it's normal for you to be adverse to that. So yeah, sorry."

"It's okay," said Jenny with a comforting smile. "Come on, let's go join the others. It's not good manners to keep our guests waiting. I promise I won't bite their heads off again, but all bets are off if there's chocolate inside."

Laughing, Addison flounced from the bathroom with a little skip in her step, while Jenny lagged behind, still deep in thought about Nicole and Tess.

_I just wish I could figure out what's so strange about those two. There's such a cold, foreboding aura about them, almost like with Miss Power; it's not even human, really. Is it possible I'm feeling this way because I'm the Element of Love? No, Addison and Lisa felt it, too. Could I just be imagining it all? Is it possible that I'm really just a little girl struggling from the trauma of a Russian kidnapping, and that all I thought I saw and felt was the cause of some drug-induced dream? Could I really be wrong?_

_But I wish it were true. It would mean that I'm not normal like everyone else, that I have a special purpose in this world. It's a wonderful fantasy, but how long am I willing for it to be my reality?_

Lost in her thoughts, Jenny walked like a sleepwalker through the hallway. It was only when she slid into the booth and remembered Nicole and Tess did she snap out of her musings.

The remaining half-hour went well. Jenny now played an active, seemingly interesting role in the conversation, even forcing a smile now and then. Addison was pleased by Jenny's behavior: Jenny noticed her tense shoulders slowly start to relax as she began to genuinely enjoy the conversation. However, Jenny's suspicion still remained, and whenever she was not forced to speak, she resumed her carefully observation of Nicole and Tess' behavior. For the most part, her side-glances reaped no noticeable results, save for Tess' face gradually paling to the point of being faint. It was then, once she was nearly white as death, did she splutter out a need for the bathroom and clumsily excuse herself.

"Oh God, is she okay?" Jenny asked Nicole, this time with genuine concern as she glanced back at the lavender-haired girl, who was now rummaging for in her bag to extract what looked like a handful of tablets. "Is she sick or something?"

"No, it's not like that," Nicole explained. "Tess just needs to take her medication. You see, she has this problem with her heart… She's had a pacemaker since she was five to keep it stabilized; that helps for the most part, but a lot of the time, her heart still beats irregularly, especially during meals when her blood sugar spikes, so she constantly has to take medication. In fact, that's why we're moving here at all. In about two weeks, Tess will have her seventh heart surgery, this time at Denver Hospital."

This revelation hit Jenny with an excruciating stab of guilt for her behavior. How could she have been so heartless as to suspect them of some obscure evil in light of this news? "I-I'm so sorry, I…"

"No, it's okay," replied Nicole placating, cutting off Jenny's stutters. "I mean, it's not she's ashamed of it or anything. It's just a part of who she is. She doesn't let it hold her back in any way; she always tries to live her life to the fullest and finds a way around what she can't do. She can even find the fun in some of it, like how we visit so many different countries because of her treatment. She's a real trooper, and I've always admired her for that. But please, don't make a big deal out of it. Tess doesn't particularly like to be sympathized."

"Of course," Jenny agreed, this information radically changing her view on Nicole and Tess.

"Gosh, but that has to be really tough on your family," Addison sympathized. "It's amazing your parents can pay for all those medical expenses. It's nice to know you can rely on them."

"Tess and I are emancipated," Nicole stated bluntly, with a bit of an edge to her voice. "Our aunt pays for some of the surgical bills, but a lot of the money comes from government financial aid."

Addison's eyes widened with pity as she listened to how Nicole danced around the question of her parents. "I'm sorry; forget I said anything."

"It's fine," Nicole said cheerfully. "After all, we're friends, aren't we?"

Jenny smiled in response. _Yes, I think we are._

* * *

"Thank you for the lovely time, Addison," said Tess politely while she bundled herself up in preparation for the outside cold. "It really was a pleasure to meet you, and we'll definitely check out that house you recommended."

"Thank you!" Addison exclaimed with relief.

"Hey, no problem," said Nicole, "If you ever want to hang out like this again, just let us know." Taking three paper napkins and a pen from her purse, Nicole scribbled her cell phone number and email address and handed one out to Jenny, Addison, and Lisa, who then did likewise.

After exchanging numbers and emails, the girls said their goodbyes with a shout of "Happy New Year's Eve!" and dispersed for home.

Meanwhile, Jenny had just finished tying her scarf around her neck when Tess re-entered the ice cream parlor.

"Sorry, I dropped something on the way out," Tess explained in that soft voice of hers as she knelt down into a crawl under the table. After retrieving her lost item – most likely her pills – she straightened up to smile shyly at Jenny.

"Thank you again for the delightful time," Tess said, the sincerity profound in her voice, her British accent predominant among the faint traces of other foreign dialects. "I know it's not easy to welcome a stranger, but I'm just so glad we got off to a good start. I hope we can be good friends in time. You seem like the type of girl that can just welcome anyone with open arms. You're very lucky. That kind of love is very rare."

As Tess hurried away after her sister, the Element of Love let out a low, tearful sigh.

_Yeah. I wonder when that became so hard._

* * *

"So, what did you think of Jennifer, Tess?" asked Nicole as the two strolled down the boardwalk.

"She doesn't strike me as being the Element of Love, but I don't think Lady Lucia is mistaken in her identity. We'll just have to observe her closely for the meantime. It certainly is bothersome, to continue waiting."

"What's even more bothersome is the fact that we have to report to Julianne all of our findings," complained Nicole. "We've served the Conclave of Lexicon for centuries, proven ourselves countless times, and yet Lady Lucia somehow thinks we're incapable of handling a 15-year-old girl."

"I don't like it, either, but you have to admit, it is necessary to have Julianne as backup. Rumor has it that there's someone from the Enclave tracking her as well."

"How ironic it is that despite being the queen in this chess game, she's being used and manipulated like a pawn. It just goes to show how stupid love can make people."

"Enough talking," said Tess. "Let's get down to business."

Spotting a nearby park bench, Nicole and Tess brushed away the snow so they could sit. Then, Tess extracted from her purse a tablet, similar in shape and appearance to an iPad of Earth, and a faintly glowing flashdrive, infused with Lexiconian technology. Awakening the tablet, Tess plugged in the flashdrive, thus enabling this ordinary Earth device to contain advanced alien data. The normal home screen dispersed into total blackness, from which a rapid series of Lexiconian symbols flashed by.

Fingers typing like lightning, Tess entered Jenny's phone number and email address, which the Lexiconian hard drive scanned, hacked into Jenny's files, and transmitted results from its database in less time than it took to blink.

Now the screen was not covered with Lexiconian symbols, but rather a rapid succession of Jenny's emails and phone calls from the past year. The words flew by at near impossible speeds that would cause even the most advanced super computer to crash, but being half-Lexiconian, Nicole and Tess were able to able to skim through Jenny's messages with ease, their alien minds able to process nearly 100,000 words per second, an incomprehensive feat for humans.

"Are you sure we'll find the Elements of Hope and Light in here?" asked Nicole.

"Of course," replied Tess. "The three elements share a special bond; they're practically inseparable. But I could tell that Jenny's losing doubt in that bond. She no longer firmly believes she's the Element of Love, and what better way to promote that doubt than erase any proof of the only two humans on this planet that know the truth?"

Just as she finished this sentence, Tess tapped the screen once, causing the list to pause and focus in on one specific email.

"Here it is," Tess said, pointing out a closing sentence, "'The Elements of Beauty will stick together no matter what.' It's signed by two girls named Kerry and Syrena. There's also a phone message that matches. Are you ready to do this?"

"Without a doubt," replied Nicole resolutely, watching the files already begin to disappear into digital nothingness. "Let's erase the Elements of Hope and Light from the face of the virtual earth."

Jenny waited until her bedroom door had fully swung shut before she slid to the floor in tears, a habit that was becoming increasingly more frequent. The reason for her tears stemmed from three reasons: her behavior with Nicole and Tess, Tess's departing comment about love, and her disbelief in her own identity. As she curled into a sobbing heap and thought about these reasons, she was simply relieved that there were any reasons at all that had caused this bad day.

For the past few months, Jenny's life at home consisted of good days, bad days, and really bad days. Good days meant staring out the window dejectedly as a hidden weight held her down and left her immobilized. Bad days meant crying, often for no reason at all other than an inexplicable, hollow pain inside her heart that rang out with dull pangs. And really bad days meant crying after screaming, whether it be at her friends, family, or even herself inside the tormented recesses of her own mind. The only time Jenny truly felt happy was whenever she was surrounded by other people, like the meeting at the ice cream parlor. There, she was forced to put on an act of happiness so as to placate her friends, who often even served as a distraction from her internal… was it depression? She didn't want to think about that. To slap a label on it would only make the situation more real and harder to avoid. Besides, she was doing better today, wasn't she? Unlike most days, Jenny had a valid reason for crying, three, in fact. To make it easier to sort out her feelings, Jenny decided to tackle each reason one at a time.

First, Nicole and Tess. Sure, she may have been horrible to them at first, but didn't she have good reasons for doing so? Yeah, like a supposed creepy aura was a good reason. There were lots of people like that, people who you knew in an instant mean trouble, people who you cross to the other side of the street for, people who just give off bad vibes. It wasn't exactly uncommon, so why had she made such a big deal out of it?

Maybe it was because at this point, she was so desperate for a sign that all the magical things from nearly two years ago actually happened that she was now trying to read the supernatural into the ordinary. She needed confirmation that magic truly existed so that it could really be possible that she was the embodiment of love, a gift that, which led to the second reason for her tears, she was starting to doubt.

Jenny was definitely not the most caring and loving person in the world; heck, everyday was a constant struggle to even be tolerable. No, love hadn't been easy for her. Healing people's hearts, feeling the heartbeats of a thousand souls flowing through her veins, seeing the union of love written in the stars, there was no way she could do any of that now. It just couldn't be true.

And yet she wanted it to be true, with all her heart and soul so much that it hurt. As most people do, Jenny dreamed of being famous, of being someone people would remember throughout history. And for her, being the Element of Love was her way of proving to herself she was special. Now, belief in that identity was slowly beginning to fade, leaving Jenny feeling stupid and awful and useless.

"There has to be a way," Jenny sobbed to herself. "Some way I could know for sure if everything I saw and felt really did exist."

And then it hit her. Of course. She was such an idiot. Kerry and Syrena might not have been responding to her messages, but that didn't mean the previous ones weren't true. She had saved all their emails and phone calls; surely, those would be enough to convince her, to remind herself of her own identity once more.

Invigorated with a sudden burst of excitement, Jenny hurried to sign in to her email. After an excruciating 30 second wait in which she mistyped her password three times in her haste, she was finally on. The 15-year-old quickly hit the back arrow several times to get to her messages from four months ago and…

No emails from Kerry or Syrena.

Surprised, Jenny went back further and further until she was reading emails from two years ago, and still no sight of Kerry and Syrena's names. She knew she wouldn't find them, but nevertheless, she scrolled back, perusing every single message carefully but to no avail. She typed in their emails, but she kept getting a pop-up telling her the URL did not exist, even after she checked for spelling ten times.

Panic rising, Jenny fumbled in her purse for her phone. Her shaking hands scrolled through all her past phone calls, all with no mention of the Elements of Hope and Light whatsoever. At this, Jenny's attempts grew more desperate as her mind grew hazy with panic. Dial phone number. Invalid number. Search addresses online. Both houses vacant for years. Pull up photos from her vacation to Syrena's summer house. Never existed. Type names into Google and every major social media site. No results found.

Finally, resigned to defeat, Jenny simply sat in front of her monitor in shock as her sluggish brain fought to process her scattered thoughts. Everywhere she looked, there was no trace of them. It was almost as if…

_As if they never existed._

Jenny had good days, bad days, and really bad days. As she bashed her head against the window, cried, and screamed, she decided that today must be an awful combination all three.

* * *

**Did I mention this story is going to be paced like a hard train? :D Seriously though, a lot is being crammed into this story, and while I will do my best to flesh everything out, it will most definitely be fast paced.**

**In case you haven't picked up on it by now, I will be writing in cycles, with each arch getting one or two chapters.**

**Don't forget the subtle MLP references!**

**Chapter 3 of A Halfling's Tale will be posted on Monday, and Chapter 3 of Beauty in Word and Heart will be posted next Friday.**

**Also, Chapter 3 of this story will contain the first actual WordGirl scene! All I can say is... brace yourselves. *insert devious evil grin* On that note, see you on Monday!**

**Love to all,**

**Bella**

**P.S. Just received my graduation cap and gown today! Now it's less than a week until that fateful day of freedom! **


	4. Assimilation (En and KS)

**Hi everyone, it's me again, enjoying my freedom from school for the past few days while trying to ignore the crazy thought that I'll be starting freshman year of high school in mere months. Anyway, before I begin, I just need to get a few replies out of the way:**

** Insert Name Here: I'm very sorry, but I'm afraid you're quite mistaken. Mulan - well, ****_my_**** Mulan at any rate - is not based off a Disney character; she's just another one of my OC's, just like Jenny and the rest of the gang. I don't really watch a lot of Disney movies, so I was not aware that Mulan was the name of one of the characters, otherwise I would have made this clear from the start. (I originally got her name from a minor character in the TV show ****Once Upon a Time****.) Still, thank you for the suggestion.**

** lightball34: Very good guesses, but they were not the ones I was thinking of:**

**_Nearly tumbling out of bed, Jenny started to get ready, with her first task being to straighten her unruly reddish-brown curls so that it would drape itself stylishly around her upper torso. _**

**Straightening her naturally curly hair is an allusion to Pinkamina Diane Pie, whose hair instantly becomes straight (see "Party of One" for a reference) when sad or depressed, thus hinting at Jenny's own sadness and depression.**

**_"...Seriously, stop being such an egghead and make her do it..." _**

**Egghead = Half the conversations RD has ever had with Twilight.**

**Still, those were two valiant guesses! And now, I bring you to the first chapter with WordGirl herself, a chapter I know will not be received positively, I'm sure. And why, you may ask? Well, it can be summed up in one word:**

**Scecky.**

**...**

**Please, proceed. :D**

* * *

"I just can't seem to think of anything," Scoops sighed, crumpling yet another piece of notebook paper in his frustration before tossing it carelessly into the newly fallen snow.

"That's no reason to litter, Scoops," Becky kindly reprimanded as she snatched up the piece of paper and tapping into a bit of Lexiconian super-speed, dashed in a golden blur to the nearby trashbin before effortlessly gliding to sit next to Scoops on the park bench in a fraction of a second.

"Aren't you worried about doing that in public?" Scoops asked as he looked up from her reporter's notebook, currently blank save for a few stray pen marks caused from his frustrated writer's block.

"Not really," Becky replied casually. "No one ever notices anyway, and besides, I've got more important things on my mind." Her sparkling chocolate brown eyes widened in concern for her boyfriend. "Would it help if I took down Amazing Rope Guy? I can hear the police coming now, but I could easily overtake them."

"No, that's okay, Becky," replied Scoops kindly, absentmindedly interlacing his gloved hand in hers. "You do enough crime-fighting without having to worry about the minor villains. It's just… sometimes I feel like I'm losing my touch."

Eyes widened in worry, 14-year-old Becky shifted her position to face her boyfriend. "What do you mean? You're Todd Scoops Ming, the top intern at the Big City Times! You're a wonderful reporter!"

"Am I? Am I really?" Scoops let his saddened gaze stretch into the distance, where trees were strung with merrily twinkling lights and the skyscrapers of Fair City brushed tenderly against the gentle sky, now adorned in a gown of soft, pastel pinks and oranges as she celebrated the final hours counting down to the new year. "I suppose I used to be, but now… I just don't know. Being a reporter used to control my life, made me neglect both you and Violet. In a way, it still does. As much as I want to, there are days when I just can't put the pen down and focus on the people I love."

"But that's all changed now!" Becky said. "After the whole inter-dimensional portal fiasco from nearly two years ago, you've become much more open with me and Violet. That's why I finally felt comfortable about telling you my secret."

"I know, but I feel like I'm abusing that secret, Becky," replied Scoops regretfully. "Maybe I didn't expose your secret identity as WordGirl, but still, I'm taking advantage of it. Is it wrong of me to schedule all of these exclusive interviews with you, to always get the inside story on your latest heroics, just because you love me?"

"Scoops, it may not be as obvious with you, but you live a double life, too, just like me. The Scoops sitting next to me is not Todd Scoops Ming, the top intern of the Big City Times, just like Becky Botsford is not WordGirl, the Lexiconian superhero of Fair City. It's hard at first, but you'll eventually learn to how to separate your responsibility and your life. And guess what? I love them both. I can't tell you how happy it makes me to know that by living my dream, I can help fulfill yours, too. When the news cameras start rolling or when your fingers dance across the typewriter, there's always a wonderful spark of passion that flares to life in your eyes. It's the only sight in the world that can leave me at a loss for words. I would give anything to just to see it over and over again, to watch in awe as you fulfill your lifelong dream."

For a while, Scoops sat in contemplative silence as he watched the gently falling snowflakes slowly fall to earth, where they melded into dazzling white blanket shimmering with the radiance of a thousand diamonds. Then, he looked back to met Becky's eyes, which shined with the light of a thousand more.

"Becky," he began thoughtfully, "how did you decide to become a superhero? How did you know that it was what you were meant to do?"

The 14-year-old Lexiconian sighed. "I always had to hide who I was. I could never reveal my powers to anyone; it would cause too many complications. I hated it, always having to keep my secret. It felt like I was trying to destroy a vital part of who I was. I wanted my gifts to be appreciated. I wanted to make people smile, to make a difference in the world by being who I was. I was tired of pretending to be someone I wasn't, and in a way, I still have to pretend. I have to lie and hurt the people I love on a daily basis. I'll admit, it takes a toll, more than I ever could have imagined that first day I donned the cape. But I still think it was worth it, because it's the only way I can go to sleep at night and look back on my day with pride. I think that's how you know if being a reporter is truly what you're meant to be.

"You don't have to answer me on how you feel this instant," Becky continued. "But for now, I want you to come with me." Her pink cheeks glowed with stinging cold as well as a hidden excitement as she took Scoops by the hand and laughing like a schoolchild, ducked behind a tree. Then, making sure no one was watching, Becky held Scoops in her arms and raising her eyes to the twilight-lit sky, let her joy propel her into blissful flight.

"Don't you hear the sirens?" Scoops murmured softly as he pressed himself deeper into her embrace as a column of golden light held their love in its radiance.

Becky closed her eyes. Yes, she could hear the sirens, the cries of panicked citizens, terrified by the crime that rampaged daily in Fair City. Those were the shouts that always called her back to her responsibilities, which were some days a blessing and others a curse.

But today, she also heard the blaring wails of police cruisers containing brave men and women who despite their mortal fragility, would not hesitate to save the day, even though in the end, they would not receive even a fraction of the fame she had, making them in Becky's eyes ten times the hero she was. Today, despite the mortal screams calling her to earth, there was a stronger, divine, eternal force lifting her to the skies with its song. Today, just this once, Becky wanted to break all the rules, forget her god-like powers and crushingly burdensome responsibility, and steal away a few precious hours of twilight to escape from the rest of the world. Today, Becky wanted to simply _feel_.

"Yes," Becky whispered, more to herself than Scoops, "It's very loud. So let's go someplace where it can't find us. I want to fly and touch the stars."

* * *

"And then Elieen starts singing the most horrid song on her karaoke machine," said Becky, laughing as she tossed another kernel of popcorn into her mouth. "And when she's done, you could've heard crickets chirping, I swear, it was so quiet and awkward with only a few people clapping. But she just lapped up all the attention without realizing the inauthenticity! I was trying so hard not to laugh that Violet asked me if I was about to throw up." Becky sighed at the memory of her first slumber party. "I remember being really irritated with Elieen back then, but now that she's going to a different high school, a part of me misses her, you know?"

Scoops nodded in understanding as he broke open a package of M&Ms. After raiding Becky's kitchen of every bag of junk food imaginable, the two had flown to Becky's roof, where they had spent the past few hours simply laughing and reminiscing over good times.

"Look, Becky," Scoops said, pointing at the steady stream of cars flying across the highway in yellow and red blurs. "I think they're all going to watch the New Year's Eve fireworks show in the park."

"Aren't you supposed to be covering it for the Big City Times?" asked Becky gently, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Who says I have to be down there to do it?" replied Scoops. "This is the best view I could hope for, although I'm likely to be hopelessly distracted by your lovely face. I think it's unfair, almost. All the time and organization that went into planning the most spectacular firework show, and it still can't possibly rival you. Oh well, better luck next year, guys!"

Laughing, Becky lay down on the cozy blankets they had spread out across the roof and tilted her head upwards to face the stars. Becky had always viewed the galaxy as a cold, barren maze destined for Earth's lost souls, so enraptured by its beauty that they left the ground in hopes of floating above the heavens in a blissful trance. Their fingers would delicately sweep across the sun's light like a piano, their eyes would behold the wonders of brilliant supernovas, and their hearts would burst from its splendor. And yet, at the same time, they would also be hopelessly lost, destined to wander endlessly through infinite space as their feeble minds attempted to unravel life's most beautiful yet unattainable mysteries: the hidden formula for crafting love, the unseen brush which painted into existence hope and dreams and imagination, and the secret, beautiful song that resided in the deepest and brightest depths of the human soul. But Becky liked to believe that the stars were symbols of guidance, little beacons of comforting hope that would help light their way.

"Lexicon used to be there," Becky said softly, more to herself than anyone else, as the words slipped unbidden from her lips. She pointed to a tiny patch of vacant space. "In between those three stars."

"I… I'm so sorry, Becky," Scoops said, taken aback by the sudden change of mood. "I didn't mean to remind you of that by agreeing to come up here."

"No, it's okay," Becky replied, her voice dazed as if in a dream. "It may hurt to think about, but I never want to forget what happened there. If I could, I would take a picture of my mother and brand it in my heart if it meant remembering her."

"You never told me what she was like," Scoops commented, his gaze tilted upwards toward the stars in silent wonder.

At this, Becky paused. How could she possibly describe Queen Islanzadi, the firm and wise sovereign over her home planet, and her mother, the kind, gentle, and selfless woman who was willing to sacrifice her very life for the safety of her daughter? "She was very beautiful," Becky began, starting with the basics. "When she walked, there was an air of grace and elegance that not even I could replicate. And when she sacrificed herself to save me… I just couldn't believe it. She was perfect, far better than I ever would of imagined, far better than I ever deserved."

"Don't say that," Scoops said reassuringly. "You deserve a perfect mom like that, because you are perfection, Becky."

"No, no I'm not," Becky replied, the first of many crystal tears leaking from her obsidian eyes. "I'm not perfect, unlike what everyone else seems to think. I'm vain, arrogant, and a coward. Sometimes I feel like I don't deserve their applause, their praise for doing something that's as simple to my race as walking. It's like being praised for being the only one who can walk in a school full of paraplegics. It's not a talent, something that needs hard work and dedication to blossom, and yet I push it all aside and accept it eagerly. That doesn't seem very perfect to me.

"But I don't think my mom was perfect, either. There was another side to her, a side that had made too many mistakes over the centuries, that was stubborn and headstrong, that used brute force when it wasn't necessary. But that's just another side of the same coin. No, what I envy most about her, something I hope to have the selflessness to do someday, is how she was able to push it all aside and sacrifice her life for my dreams. That to me was wonderful."

For a while, the two teenagers lay in silence, with nothing but the cool evening wind to keep them company. They watched as one by one, the city lights flickered out, surrendered the fight against the darkness, and let midnight reign supreme in her starry majesty.

"Becky," Scoops whispered softly as the first few fireworks appeared in the sky, "what do you dream of?"

"I dream of a day when I can start a family," Becky began, choosing her words carefully as she stared blankly into the distance, as if she were imagining her ideal future play out in the faint wisps of clouds above. "We would settle somewhere in Europe, perhaps a city as grand and beautiful as Paris. Well, wherever it happened to be, we would live in a quaint little cottage on the city's outskirts, where I would love to raise a daughter, a darling baby girl named Madeline or something elegant like that. There wouldn't be any other children; she would be a golden child, the only one I'd ever need. I'd do my very best to make her happy." At this, Becky broke off her sentence with a tearful smile. "It would be absolutely beautiful," she continued, her voice airy and dreamy, "but whenever I try to imagine it, I feel so hollow inside, like it's not supposed to happen, never should, and never will be. I can feel my dream rattling around inside, but there's nothing but empty air."

"You should never doubt your dreams like that, Becky," Scoops said as he prepared to commence an inspiring speech. "If you doubt a dream, it's like a box that… oh, forget this, I'm not good at it anyway. Listen, Becky," he started again, clasping her hands firmly in his, "I don't know how much good it will do to hear this, but I want you to know that wherever you go in life, I'll follow you, no matter what the cost. I may have a dream of my own, but I believe this love is stronger than that or any dream. It's a dream all unto itself, a wonderful dream, just because it's never achieved but is still fulfilled everyday I'm with you. I can't do many things, but I can promise you this: as long as you want me, I'll always be by your side, doing whatever I can to make your dreams come true."

"You make it sound as if we're in a fairytale," Becky said while the clocktower chimed midnight in the distance.

"Of course we aren't, but why should that mean it can't come true?"

* * *

"Gah!" Lucie cried in rage, swiping away the holographic projection of Becky and Scoops' romantic moment on the rooftop. Still fuming, the leader of the Conclave of Lexicon swept from the throne room, her mind still echoing with Becky's words:

_"…Well, wherever it happened to be, we would live in a quaint little cottage on the city's outskirts, where I would love to raise a daughter, a darling baby girl named Madeline or something elegant like that. There wouldn't be any other children; she would be a golden child, the only one I'd ever need. I'd do my very best to make her happy."_

"Foolish girl, she doesn't know what she's saying," Lucie muttered angrily to herself, her silk gown billowing around her graceful form as she strode down the long brick corridors bathed in torchlight. She didn't even need to concentrate on her destination; her feet automatically led her through the endless labyrinth of halls with ease. Up ahead, she could dimly hear the clashing of metal against metal as with a flourish, she entered the combat room.

Immediately upon entering, Lucie's ears were bombarded with the tortured screeching of clashing weapons, ranging from medieval swords to modern-day handguns to futuristic, Lexiconian-designed, handheld cannons, which rapidly fired pulsating orbs of pure, deadly energy. Harmonizing this discordant melody were the screams and grunts of fighting halflings, all preparing themselves for combat. Dressed in sleek, aerodynamic military gear, the Lexiconian-human hybrids brutally dueled against each other in a frenzied yet controlled battle fever as they assaulted their opponents with a masterfully coordinated series of spins, kicks, and flips in addition to their weapons. Oftentimes when observing her loyal followers in battle, Lucie felt as if she were spectating a grand and deadly dance – although she strictly forbade fights to the death – as she marveled at the fluidity of their movements, so unearthly in grace that no mere mortal would dare match it. Yet despite this divine refinement, their fighting also contained a fair share of mortal passion as well, a tempered bloodlust that flowed from every bead of sweat rolling down their flushed cheeks and could be heard in the steady rhythm of every pounding heart, so loud Lucie thought it would make the very earth tremble. And the Conclave's leader drank this all in, savoring every last drop of her followers earnest blood, sweat, and tears as they incessantly labored in her efforts to bring to fruition the future she cherished.

Ignoring the sudden barrage of bullets to her left, Lucie entered the combat room. With an almost regal elegance, she swept past the shower of sparks caused by a collision of swords, dodged three swinging punches, and sidestepped a onslaught of neon-glowing orbs, all without breaking pace in her stride until she stopped in front of two girls, namely, Erica and Shannon, located on the far side of the room.

At the sight of their leader, the two young women instantly stopped their mock battle to bow to Lucie. Lucie in turn waved her hand in a gesture of ease; this was a clear signal for them to resume the fight, this time with Lucie closely watching.

As the battle wore on, it was apparent that Erica was the more reckless fighter. Her auburn ponytail swinging wildly, she was constantly on the offensive, cutting deep slashes into Shannon's black latex suit and barely allotted any time for recovery before assaulting her with another lethal jab from her titanium-laced sword. Shannon, on the other hand, was more conservative with her movements, making every attack count as she deftly wove in and out of their makeshift arena. Lucie knew this tactic well. Shannon was trying to provoke Erica into making increasingly more frequent mistakes in formation so she could attack.

Finally, when Lucie had seen enough, she commanded, "Shannon, do the wall test."

Nodding in comprehension, Shannon picked up a stray orbcannon and, without any hesitation, spent a painful beam of energy slamming into Erica's chest, causing her to careen at the speed of light into the adjacent wall.

Lucie waited with bated breath as a team of medics rushed to the crumbling brick rubble, where Erica lay trapped beneath. After a few moments of tense anticipation and more than a little naïve hope, the bricks were moved away, revealing a bruised, battered, bleeding Erica, twitching in horrible pain as she was rushed to the medical wing.

Lucie let out a frustrated sigh, both out of discouragement in the test's failure and her naïve hope for an outcome different from all the others she had spectated, as she witnessed firsthand the fatal flaw in Lexiconian-human hybrid DNA.

It appeared that halflings possessed nearly all of a Lexiconian's abilities: flight, super speed, enhanced strength, and even a chosen few inherited extraordinary vocabularies, albeit all had to slowly develop over the course of decades rather than be fully developed at birth like pure Lexiconians. However, due to several scientific studies of their anatomy, it had also been revealed that all of these powers were contained in a fragile, human body. When out-of-control, these powers could easily mean the demise of a halfling, whose body had not been properly engineered to withstand the effects of flying at the speed of light or lifting an entire mountain single-handedly.

Worst of all were the injuries. Apparently, as if inheriting a weakness for Lexonite wasn't bad enough, invincibility was not a trait passed down to halflings, so if one were to say, careen into a brick wall, the body would sustain crippling human injuries. It was a backdraw to say the least, especially with the human governments stockpiling nuclear weapons across the globe. There was no way a halfing would be able to survive a bomb drop, which of course led Lucie to make other, more covert arrangements to ensure the Conclave's success.

Suddenly, a button on Lucie's wristband started flashing blue. Pressing it, a holographic projection sprung from the device to display the faces of Nicole and Tess.

"Greetings, Lady Lucia," began Tess with a slight bow of the head. "We come bearing a report of our progress regarding the Element of Love."

"Good news, I hope?" asked Lucie.

"Yes, I believe so," said Nicole. "We have just cut off all connections between her and the Elements of Hope and Light. Meanwhile, she appears to be warming up to us, despite an initial distrust upon our first meeting. We are still learning about her emotional stability and insecurities, but we are confident that at this rate, we can deliver her to you broken within a matter of weeks."

"Excellent, Nikita and Eliza," praised Lucie, addressing them by their halfling names, "Stay in close contact with Julianne, and I am confident that things will go smoothly."

"Thank you, my Lady," replied Nicole respectfully. "We will make sure to keep you updated upon any further progress."

And with that, the holographic projection dissipated into a thousand floating particles of light. Satisfied with the latest update, Lucie began to leave the combat room when she was stopped once again by another flashing light from her communicator, this time, green, not blue. With a push of the button, Lucie found herself face-to-face with an image of Scarlette, one of her top advisors.

"Lady Lucia," Scarlette began, "we have another one."

Lucie instantly perked up at this rely of news. "Location?"

At this request, a projection of Planet Earth sprung into existence, with a tiny red dot blinking in the center to join about forty other dots scattered worldwide.

"The United Arab Emirates," Scarlette said. "And while we are still struggling to secure control of China and North Korea, turning the president of the UAE to our side will ensure your nearly absolute dominance in the Middle East. It will also make it much more accessible for us to take Saudi Arabia."

"Will a revolution be necessary?" asked Lucie. "It was difficult enough with Syria."

"No, the United Arab Emirates is confident in their president. I believe the arrangement can be done covertly. At the moment, he is assumed to be on a private jet headed for Germany. If the Assimilation can be done quickly, we can get him back on board within thirty minutes, just before seven o'clock silent hour."

"Is he broken?"

"Yes, my Lady. He's currently the throne room, screaming for his death."

"Excellent. I will be arriving shortly." And with that, Lucie took off for the throne room, leaving behind nothing but a ghostly trail of white light as she moved at speeds almost breaking the barriers of sound.

With a swoosh of wind, Lucie came to a split-second halt in front of the two flaming braziers to behold a scene she had conducted numerous times. Directly before her was President Nahyan, bounded with a pair of iron handcuffs and flanked by two halfling surgeons proficient in the Assimilation process. One held a bioengineered laser for seamlessly slicing open bone, and the other bore two copper-plated microchips, which could emit a complex series of high-pitched frequencies.

"Please, just end it!" cried out the president in Arabic. "Have mercy on me and kill me! I'll do whatever you want; just take the pain away!"

Somewhere deep inside, Lucie's heart stirred with pity for the poor man. Despite what others commonly believed, she did not revel in torturing humans, but sadly, it was the only way to get them to bend to her will, to erase all resistance so that the Assimilation could take place. However, she knew she had to push aside those feelings in order to do what would be best in the long run for Planet Earth and the Conclave.

And so, Lucie allowed the stabilizing strands of her sanity to step aside, giving way to her absolute madness. No longer was she Lady Lucia, the strong, level-headed, and calculating leader of the Conclave of Lexicon, but Little Lucie Manette, a scarred young girl that was unjustly locked away in an insane asylum, left to stew in her bitterness for humanity for nearly a decade. It was the only way Lucie would ever be able to say these words, to look into the eyes of a terrified victim as the deadly laser was directed toward his head and still have the cruelty to say:

"Initiate assimilation."

* * *

"Do you have everything?" Rebecca asked, checking for the fifth time to make sure all the necessary items were in their proper place in the satchel.

"Yes," replied Kerry, rummaging through the assortment of strange, mysterious vials, a definite stand out in comparison to the back seat of the seemingly normal 2011 Toyota Camry. "We're all set."

Smiling, Rebecca casually brushed away a few specks of fine red powder from her face, compressed her grand clockwork wings into two thin metal slits pressed against her back, and jumped into the driver's seat of the car.

"You two have nothing to worry about," Rebecca reassured them for the thousandth time as she started up the engine. "Daphne's known to be overdramatic when it comes to affairs like this. I can promise you that your lives will most likely not be in danger today, and even in that slim chance, I'll be right beside you the entire time."

"But that slim chance shouldn't even exist!" Syrena protested after she finished tying her hair up into a messy ponytail. "We're the Elements of Hope and Light; don't our lives count for anything? We were supposed to be protected from Miss Power's daughter, not be thrown into the front lines of a battle we have nothing to do with!"

Through the reflection of the rearview mirror, Kerry could see Rebecca momentarily close her eyes as she sighed in defeat. Still keeping her eyes on the road, she explained, choosing her words carefully, "Daphne is… a difficult person to understand, but in order to begin, you must realize that she's lived for eons and has consequently witnessed firsthand all the horrors of mankind. When she first fell to Earth, she was naïve, believing that all humans were just like the one pure, selfless, compassionate girl she swore to protect. As time wore on, she, as with all of us, discovered that good people like that are nothing more than rare, happy accidents in this world. And while I don't believe Daphne regrets her decision to embrace humanity, it is beginning to take its toll. There's a reason immortals where only meant to dwell in Heaven: the sufferings of the mortal plane are not meant to drag on for eternity. It's a miracle that Daphne's been able to hold on this long."

"But you held on," Kerry reminded Rebecca quietly. "You seem happy."

"Sometimes," Rebecca said, her voice barely a whisper, "if you act like you're happy long enough, you begin to believe it's true."

"As for you," Rebecca restarted after a moment of silence, as if that last remark was nonexistent, "Daphne has always had mixed feelings about you and your predecessors. One the one hand, the Symbols of Beauty represent humanity's most redeeming qualities, the reason why Daphne fell to Earth in the first place. However, she also views your rare power as an unnatural abomination. If there's one thing Daphne desires, that is to keep the human race pure and safe from any outside forces. That's a large portion of the reason why Daphne has upheld such an opposition to the Conclave of Lexicon, because to her, she considers the intermingling of an alien Lexiconian and a human to be such a grave sin. A halfling is unnatural, an abhorred defilement of God's creation, and she won't stand for it."

At this, the conversation came to an awkward standstill. Unsure of what else to do, Syrena dejectedly rested her head against the car window as she watched the towering glass skyscrapers of Fukuoka, Japan fly by in a blur. Meanwhile, Kerry anxiously fiddled with the silver-edged handgun she had been armed with in her hand in an attempt to unknot the nervous snarls constricting in her chest. More than anything, it felt as if they were being sent into a war zone, with them being clad in a full-length ensemble that felt like a strange mix of a school uniform and military gear. They were decked in navy blue, all the way from the tight-fitting shirt laced with the technology of a bullet-proof vest, to baggy pants that concealed a belt loaded with every sort of arsenal weapon imaginable, to military-grade combat boots. Two teenage girls being shipped off to a war they knew nothing about and who had no possible way to desert.

Looking down, Kerry saw with a gut-wrenching pain the newly healed scar, the red starkly contrasting the pale white of her skin. The wound would serve as a constant reminder of the blood contract the two girls had been forced to sign. While Rebecca insisted with her hollow placations that it was just an Enclave formality, symbolizing nothing, Kerry couldn't help feeling she had lost a precious gift that day, the moment she squeezed three drops of her life blood onto the parchment. She needed answers, and she just wished Rebecca would give them.

Admittedly, while Kerry was grateful to the sympathetic guardian angel for sheltering her from such horrid information, a stronger part of her wished Rebecca would stop treating her and Syrena like children and tell them the truth. After all, not knowing about a problem wouldn't make it go away; it would still remain, a looming shadow shrouding them in the darkness of uncertainty. Only with knowledge could they rise up to face it and change their own destiny. That to Kerry was what Rebecca, in all her ages of wisdom, just couldn't understand: maybe it's easier to keep a child contained in a bubble, but who's to say its mind, understanding, and emotions, that which defines who a person truly is, can't be suffocated in the process?

"Rebecca?" asked Syrena, breaking the spell of silence. "If the Enclave fell away from Heaven during the Schism, then shouldn't you be fighting God?"

"Even if such a thing were practical, we would not. We like to consider ourselves as the divine equivalent of Protestants, who broke away from the Roman Catholic Church during its era of corruption through the selling of indulgences. We still hold the same beliefs as our Heavenly brothers and sisters; we just choose to achieve our goals, as you'll soon discover, in a rather… _unorthodox _manner."

Six trapdoors, three underground staircases, and one secret passage through a brick wall later, the fallen angel and the two wiki girls were standing before ancient, weathered door, carved in swirling golden runes of a strange language unknown to Earth, as they prepared to find out what 'unorthodox manners' actually meant.

"What does the door say?" asked Kerry curiously.

"That's the name of this place," Rebecca replied, "Most call it by its official title, The Place of Fallen Miracles, but some of the regulars like myself enjoy calling it by a more crude yet fitting title."

And with that, Rebecca pressed her hand against a golden star enclosed by a diamond, causing both the hinges of the door and those of Kerry and Syrena's jaws to swing open.

"Welcome to the Angelic Black Market."

* * *

**This one was a mix of plot archs! Let's break it down scene by scene, shall we?**

**Yup, Scecky's going to be the pairing in this fanfic. The reason being is that, well, let's face it, Tobecky dominates this fandom, hands down. I don't think I've ever read a Scecky fic, and besides, nearly 2/3 of all fanfictions on here revolve around that couple. And while that's fine and everything, I felt that Scecky at least deserves a chance to see how such a scenario would play out. No, this pairing is not going to be perfect, as you can see from how Scoops is using their relationship to score exclusive interviews with WordGirl (and yes, this will be acknowledged in later chapters), but I'm still doing it. Besides, if I did Tobecky, it would completely undermine the message of Believing (although you haven't heard the last of our boy genius). Regardless, this romance will not be focused on much throughout this story, so if you despise Scecky with a vengeance, it won't really effect the experience of this story for you. So please, I'd like to hear your thoughts on this!**

**So there's your explanation of halfling anatomy. To help you understand (or maybe just confuse you even more), imagine it like a lightbulb fueled with enough energy to power a nuclear bomb. Sure, that lightbulb's going to be a lot more powerful than average, but there's only so much power it can withstand before it explodes. Also, mind control is canon in this story, and personally, I think this is a better set up than what was presented in the show, simply because it seems too easy in the show. To make it so that mind control only works when the person's will to live/mind is broken adds an extra challenge that I think is lacking in the show.**

**What is the Angelic Black Market? Find out in part one of the two-part chapter expositing Kerry and Syrena's arch! I think my upload dates are becoming too difficult for people to follow, so from now on, I'll just be updating everything on Wednesday, both this story and A Halfling's Tale, which only has two chapters left regardless. See you on Wednesday!**

**Feedback is greatly appreciated!**

**Love to all,**

**Bella**


	5. Good Intentions (KS)

**Hi everyone! Hope everyone's summer is going well so far! Before I begin, I just have one reply to a review:**

** kailaroseclover: I'm very intrigued by the story you mentioned. I would very much like to read it and give my opinion; however, the links you provided do not work, even when added with the Facebook URL at the beginning. I would have told you sooner except you've disabled private messaging, making this the only way I can communicate with you. I would appreciate it if you could turn PMing back on so we can discuss this more in private. Thank you!**

**If you're reading this, congratulations for not being scared away by Scecky! On with the story!**

* * *

"The road to Hell is paved with good intentions."  
-Saint Bernard of Clairvaux

* * *

"You call _this _unorthodox?" asked Syrena in disbelief as her neck twisted in five different directions in an attempt to take in all the sights that had suddenly bombarded her.

It felt like she had been plucked from the real world and pitched headfirst into Diagon Alley. It was a quaint cobblestone street, lined with rows and rows of stalls, all filled with merchants vigorously clamoring for customers. Syrena wished she had an extra pair of eyes to view all the extraordinary sights of this place, and judging by one of the stalls, she could actually purchase one, provided she had brought with her $10,000 American dollars.

"What… what is this place?" Kerry breathed in awe. Never before had she seen such a place, so cleverly tucked away within the folds of a world she thought she knew. It made Kerry wonder what other secret worlds were lying underneath the now fading façade** (You see what I did there? :D)** of normalcy she had believed for so long.

"This is one of the three supernatural trading centers located in Asia," Rebecca explained, calmly strolling through the crowds as if she were doing something as ordinary as her weekly grocery shopping. "Here, those of non-mortal descent can come to associate with each other, receive information of global happenings in the supernatural world, and exchange goods unique to his or her particular race. Of course, many mortals also come here in search of far-off dreams: a bottle of fame, the fountain of youth, a recipe for curing sickness, the secret to eternal life, and so much more. Whether with good, bad, or greedy intentions, most of the poor mortal souls are ripped off by the many frauds that roam this place, but a chosen few, such as ourselves, are the real deal."

Just as Rebecca finished her calm explanation and Kerry and Syrena's eyes threatened to explode from their heads in shock (in which case, $10,000 American dollars really would be needed), the fallen angel said, "Ah! Our first customer!"

"Hello, Rebecca," greeted a pretty young woman in her mid-twenties, with limply hanging brown hair that nearly glittered like diamonds to match her flawless mocca-colored skin, simply radiant as it shone in the sunlight to reflect flecks of gold. From her incredibly long legs to her top-brand, designer mini-dress, this woman was clearly the type of beauty queen that crushed every female's self-esteem upon entering the room.

"Girls, this is Tamara, one of _Vogue's _top supermodels," Rebecca courteously introduced. "Tamara, this is Kerry and Syrena. They'll be accompanying me on my rounds today; I do hope you don't mind."

"You're letting those two little girls hang around the Black Market?" Tamara remarked dubiously.

"Daphne's orders," Rebecca replied with a casual shrug, as if that alone settled the matter.

"Well, then I suppose I'm not one to argue with Daphne's motives," Tamara replied, nonchalant. After taking one more calculating glance at the two teenagers, she addressed the matter of her visit. "Do you have it or don't you?" she demanded impatiently. "I should be boarding my plane to Guatemala."

"Yes, of course. Kerry, can you please get me the green vial from the bag?"

After brushing away a thin film of strange red powder, Kerry quickly handed over the peculiar green potion, which Rebecca then passed to Tamara in exchange for a hefty wad of hundred dollar bills tied in a rubber band.

"There you go," Rebecca said pleasantly. "Melted glass from the Hall of Shattered Mirrors. Remember, you just have to use it twice a day for it to take effect. That bottle should last you about three months before you have to return."

"Thank you," Tamara replied with genuine sincerity before stowing the vial away in her sparkly silver purse. Checking her watch, Tamara gasped, aghast. "Gah, I'm late! So sorry to cut this meeting off, but I really have to go!"

"Oh, it's fine!" Rebecca replied, casually waving away Tamara's apology. "Keep me updated on the relief efforts there, though, okay? The good news is that I've asked Daphne if we can steer clear of excavation in Guatemala for the moment, and it seemed to work, considering that we're working in Brazil now instead."

"That's wonderful news!" Tamara exclaimed happily. "Thank you again, Rebecca!" And with that, Tamara ran off into the crowd, leaving Kerry and Syrena to exchange puzzled glances. This mission was not turning out at all like they had expected. You didn't learn 30 ways to throw a knife when preparing to enter a warzone, not a strange, underground pawnshop for supernatural frauds. There had to be some sort of underlying motive, something that Rebecca was unwilling to divulge.

However, upon be asked about it repeatedly, Rebecca simply feigned a sudden lapse in hearing before addressing the next item on their agenda. After the fifth unsuccessful attempt to worm out information, the two girls simply resigned themselves to failure and thought out their own twisted conspiracy theories while they followed Rebecca around on her rounds.

Admittedly, this was much more interesting than following their mothers down the vegetable aisle at the store. All along the way, Syrena couldn't help but gawk at some of the customers: a pale faced man with eyes that flashed a mysterious crimson, a lab-coat wearing scientist sneakily lurking by the stalls, a young woman with her ebony hair constantly flowing majestically around her even when there was no wind, and even a hunchback with one eye.

Meanwhile, Kerry continuously found herself rifling through the assortment of magical items inside her bag in wondrous awe. In her insatiable curiosity, Kerry rattled strange bubbly potions, nearly gagged at the putrid odors of foreign powders, and to her distressed alarm, brushed her hand against an object that looked mysteriously like a throbbing, beating heart, to which Rebecca answered: "Remember, angels were the ones who witnessed firsthand the Creation of the World. Therefore, we have an incredible, unfathomable knowledge of nature's greatest secrets by watching and understanding what these things are, why they were created, how they interact with each other, and for what purpose they were intended to make life all the more pleasurable for humanity. Because of this knowledge, we've developed the science to make almost anything possible, causing people to name this place The Place of Fallen Miracles, although this is a misnomer. We're not miracle workers. We can do things like create a functional human heart just because we have the understanding to preform it. If a human possessed our knowledge, they too could pull off such a feat. Angels preform what is _seemingly _impossible, not through magic or our own power, but through science, following the rules of the natural world. A miracle is to preform what _is _impossible by breaking and rewriting the rules of the natural world."

"But it's still astounding, what you can do," Kerry remarked as an idea suddenly struck her. "Why… why don't you go public with some of this?" she asked, looking as if she had been struck with a bolt from the blue at her sudden revelation. "You could do so much with these medical innovations. If you just got this in one laboratory… you could eradicate diseases, you could cure cancer, you could save lives. Why do you have to keep all this secret?"

"You can't imagine how much I'd love to do that," Rebecca said, "but the Enclave's products aren't exactly FDA regulated. And besides, these things only work properly for those with good intentions. It would be far too dangerous to release this to the public, where we could cause a disastrous epidemic by giving these treatments to those with bad intentions, simply because there's no way we could screen the consciences of millions people worldwide. No, all we can do is do it case-by-case, helping who we can, and hope for the best. The real saviors of your world are your policemen, firefighters, soldiers, and medical minds, regular people who devote their lives to helping humanity everyday. Like any angel, I could never hope to accomplish such greatness or heroism. I'm really nothing special."

However, despite Rebecca's humble remark, Syrena couldn't help noticing that while other people had to vigorously push their way through the crowds, everyone immediately made a clear path for Rebecca by parting like the Red Sea.

"Oh, that?" Rebecca asked. "They just happen to know who I am, that's all. Most people who come here understand the important role the Enclave has in the Angelic Black Market, so they respect any member who comes through."

"But how do they recognize you?" asked Syrena. "You're wings are folded away."

"Ah, but there are other ways to recognize angelic presence," stated Rebecca sagely, staring directly into Syrena's eyes, one blue, one gold. "Aren't there, Syrena?"

At once, Syrena took in a small gasp before squeezing her eyes shut in pain.

"Hey, are you okay?" Kerry asked worriedly, putting a reassuring arm around her best friend's shoulder.

"Yeah," Syrena said, nodding as she blearily opened her eyes. "Everything just seemed a bit blurry for a second, that's all."

And with that, Syrena hurried up to join Rebecca, leaving Kerry looking perplexed.

For just as Syrena had turned away, Kerry could have sworn she'd seen Syrena's golden eye flashing abnormally bright.

* * *

"There has to be some mistake," said Kerry, who had been self-appointed unofficial treasurer, as she once again rifled through the hundreds of checks and money piles bound in rubber bands.

"What's up, Kerry?" asked Syrena, curiously peeking over Kerry's shoulder.

"I've triple-checked my math, and yet the results are still the same," stated Kerry, perplexed. "According to these figures, we've earned over 1.2 million dollars in one day."

"Oh don't worry, darling, that's right around our normal income," Rebecca replied flippantly, apparently unfazed that she had become an overnight millionaire.

"You… you're kidding, right?" Kerry stuttered incredulously. "I… what… how… where does all this money _go_?"

"That's confidential information, but believe me, it's all for a good cause."

Kerry still looked dubious, and her hands reflexively gripped the wads of money tighter, as if she were trying to prevent Rebecca from physically prying them away. Rebecca sighed in resignation as her eyes scanned the crowd. Finally, her eyes landed upon a young girl, her already pale face looking especially chalky against a backdrop of ivory hair, and her thin dress hanging limply off her shoulders, indicating that she probably hadn't had a single decent meal in her life. She was apparently alone, turning around and around in confused circles as the crowd jostled her to the curb.

Casting a meaningful look at Kerry, Rebecca politely swiped the bag from Kerry's hands and made her way through the crowds to the girl, now crying in her desperation.

"Hello, sweetie," smiled Rebecca kindly, kneeling down to the girl's eye level. "What's your name?"

The girl hiccupped from her tears before replying. "I'm A-Akemi H-Homura," she said in perfect Japanese as she wiped away the tears from her splotchy red face.

"Well, Homura-chan, my name's Reika," Rebecca replied, using her Japanese name as she switched languages.

"Gentle star," Homura translated.

"Yes, exactly," Rebecca said sweetly. "Now, what are you doing out here all alone? Where's your mother and father?"

"Mother is dead," Homura stated in a deadpan tone, as if she had had enough time to let the horrible truth sink in. Not lost, not missing, not sleeping, but simply dead, a cold hard truth that most adults had difficulty coming to terms with, never mind a little girl who could not be more than eight. "Father is a bad man, a horrible man. I ran away." There was a bitter iciness in her voice, which in this case was worse than the fiery blaze of hate. Well, in actuality, they were the same thing, really, with icy sting simply a more evolved form. After the initial spark, true hatred was preserved in ice, so much so that the spark would never die, would forever fester in the depths of the human heart and slowly harden it from the inside out.

"How long have you been on your own?"

"A few days," Homura replied with a certain detachment as if to separate herself from the words in an attempt to make them less real. This was not a story she was accustomed to telling, but yet there was something in Rebecca's kind assurances that allowed her to suddenly let her secrets tumble from her mouth and spill into the air. "I've been sleeping on the streets for a while, and it was there I heard of this place, a place where miracles truly exist. The only thing the fables left out was that the divine still abide by mortal rules, serving only those with enough money and influence to their name to matter in this world."

Compassion etched in every line of her face, Rebecca kindly pressed the orb in the young girl's hand. "Not all of us like to play by the rules," Rebecca said with a sly wink. Homura's eyes lit up in amazement as she held the little orb in her hands with such reverence that one would think her very soul was encased in their depths. In addition, the fallen angel presented Homura with a large bundle of cash. "This is 10,000 American dollars, enough to get you by for quite a while. There's no need for you to pay me back; however, I hope you will exercise prudence with it." Then, Rebecca turned around to give Kerry a look that plainly said, _See? We're not all about the money._

"I'm also willing to grant you a 'miracle,'" Rebecca added. "Tell me anything you want, and if it is within the bounds of reason, I can give it to you."

"_I have no desire for such things, Angel of Good Intentions_," Homura declared, her formerly delicate voice of a child becoming frozen over into ice, hard and cold like that of a stranger. There was a peculiar echo in her voice when she said, "_I am not as I appear. This war between the Enclave and the Conclave of Lexicon must be stopped, and I am the only one who shall. As it began with Jezebel, the original Element of Love, so too must it end with her."_

Then, reaching into her pocket, the child pulled out a tiny glass orb filled with swirling grey and white smoke that drifted lazily to and fro via an unseen current or gust of wind to form the shape of a heart. It seemed to hum with a secret, electric power as it sat motionless, cupped in Homura's gentle hands.

The fallen angel's eyes flashed with recognition. "How did you get that?" she demanded fiercely, but to her surprise, she found herself merely facing empty air. Apparently, the girl had vanished without so much as a goodbye or thank you to seamlessly disappear into the crowd.

Moments later, a haunting voice echoed in Rebecca's mind, giving her an ominous warning: _Don't worry, we'll meet again soon, I promise._

* * *

"You know," began Kerry, choosing her words carefully, "I still can't help but feel there's something… wrong about this, about what we're doing."

Upon hearing Kerry's remark from six feet away, Rebecca's unfaltering steps suddenly wavered, then stopped as she pivoted around to face her. Despite still being in a crowd of people, the moment Rebecca's eyes, now frosted with ice, met Kerry's, it felt as if someone had shone a spotlight on the three of them, leaving the rest of the world to melt away into the dark netherworld of a realm beyond the stage they had just been thrust upon.

"You wouldn't be wrong to feel that way," Rebecca said, ringing clearly in Kerry's ears despite her voice not rising above a whisper. Her eyes were sorrowful, regretful, like a mother telling her child about a terrible, irrevocable tragedy and trying to word it in such a way so that the child would understand. "I know what it looks like on the outside, that I'm just handing over beauty, fame, and power to those with enough money to afford them. It sounds greedy, immoral, and illegal, and to be honest, most would agree with you. Heaven often sends angels down to regulate this place and sometimes arrests us.

"But let me tell you that there's more to it than that. Everything the Enclave produces only goes to – and works properly for – those with good hearts and good intentions. Remember that woman, Tamara? The potion I gave her wasn't simply a beauty enhancer; it's meant to change a person's outer beauty to reflect their inner beauty. If used by a person with evil intentions, the potion would cause them to look hideous. Tamara only keeps enough money from her modeling career to support herself; the rest she donates to charities across the globe to aid third world countries. That's why she left to go to Guatemala: to oversee the construction of a children's medical clinic paid for entirely from her own funding. Believe me, she and everyone else who comes to me use these things for humanity's best interests. I would know. After all, I'm the Angel of Good Intentions."

No one wanted to mention the proverb that would go hand in hand with that statement, so instead, Kerry said, "I… I'm sorry I questioned you, Rebecca. I shouldn't have doubted you, not after how nice you've been to me and Syrena since we came to the Enclave. It's just that lately, everything feels so wrong, disjointed, and confusing. I don't even know what the future holds for us."

Kerry placed a comforting, reassuring hand on Rebecca's bare shoulder but immediately recoiled in pain.

"Ahh!" Kerry screamed, cradling her left hand.

Syrena gasped in shock. "Kerry, are you alright?" she cried, kneeling by her side.

But Kerry couldn't answer, her lungs choking with an acrid, salty smoke like brimstone. She knelt on the ground on all fours, coughing and retching as she tried not to asphyxiate. Fighting the fog that was slowly constricting around her brain, Kerry flipped over her left hand and whimpered as she saw the first-degree burn turning her skin a raw, bloody, ravaged crimson.

"Oh my God," Rebecca breathed, stooping down to Kerry's eye level.

"What… happened… to me?" asked Kerry through clenched teeth as she bit back a scream, all the while letting tears of pain well in her eyes.

Not knowing what else to do, Rebecca tore a strip of cloth from her dress to use as a temporary bandage. However, the moment her gentle fingers probed the wound, it immediately healed via a flash of golden light, leaving not even a scar to show a trace of the severe damage just seconds before.

"Okay, what the hell was that?" Syrena demanded bluntly.

"I have no idea," Rebecca replied, now examining Kerry and Syrena with a calculating expression. "I did absolutely nothing." She kindly helped Kerry, lungs now rid of smoke and brimstone, get off the cobblestone-paved road. Then looking around at the steadily growing crowd of curious bystanders, she said in a discreet tone, "We'd better take this conversation to a more secluded environment."

And so, with Kerry still staring agape at her hand in aghast horror, the trio set off through the winding streets of the Angelic Black Market until they reached a derelict alleyway, all the while wondering what on earth was going on.

Well, until they were hit by a train.

Or at least that's what it felt like as Kerry and Syrena were barreled over by a streak of pure white light, moving so fast that it had breached the barrier of sound.

Immediately, chaos ensued. The air was rent with terrified screams as each person frantically fought their way to the exits, often trampling Kerry and Syrena in the process.

Syrena was the first to recover, scrambling to her feet amidst the swarm of merchants fleeing the Angelic Black Market in droves. Only when she had fully regained her balance and helped Kerry as well did she realized that the speeding white missile had not been an attack on them, but rather Rebecca, who had been slammed into the side of a brick wall several yards away from pure force.

"Was that one of the Scale?" asked Kerry once she and Syrena had gotten Rebecca out from under the rubble. The Scale, according to Kerry's studies at the Enclave headquarters, was a legion of angels essentially serving as Heaven's police force. They would often monitor the Enclave for any illegal activity in the hopes of their arrest. Kerry had no doubt that trafficking at the Angelic Black Market would fall into the category of illegal activity.

"No," replied Rebecca, dazed and sporting minor cuts and bruises, but otherwise uninjured. "Angels can't fly at the speed of sound. This was definitely an attack from a member of the Conclave, which means…"

"What? What does it mean?" Kerry persisted, naively hoping for an answer, any answer, other than the one she received.

"Lucia is now tracking all three Symbols of Beauty."

"Now, we definitely have to capture that Conclave member to ensure your whereabouts remain secret," Rebecca said like a sergeant giving out orders as she unsheathed two saber blades from her belt. "Girls, arm yourselves."

They didn't need to be told twice. Immediately, Syrena pulled out a knife, its sharp steel point glinting dangerously as the last rays of sunlight gave way to the shadowy dusk. Meanwhile, Kerry was already pointing a shotgun defensively at any little movement that caught her attention, from a plastic bag drifting along the alleyway in the breeze to an innocent little bird soaring overhead. These jumpy, trigger-happy antics were more than enough to scare away any remaining stragglers, leaving the street abandoned, silent, and more than a little unsettling.

"Jeez, Kerry, don't blow someone's head off," Syrena said, placing a firm hand on Kerry's shoulder. "It's okay, just get a grip, alright?"

"We'll never catch up to her if you two keep chatting," Rebecca snapped testily, although saving a compassionate glance in Kerry's direction.

"We have even less chance of catching up to a woman who can move at the speed of sound," Kerry pointed out matter-of-factly.

"That may not necessarily be the case," Rebecca countered as she flipped open the leather bag and brushed a generous amount of fine red powder, coating the lid, into three empty vials.

"Refined powder Lexonite," Rebecca explained as she dolled out a vial to each girl. "I trust, given what happened two years ago, you know what it does?"

As if they could forget the effects of a bizarre alien mineral that could leave a Lexiconian incapacitated in a matter of seconds, not to mention strip them of all sanity in less than a day. Prolonged contact also caused a horrid disfigurement of the skin, leaving the victim looking ironically more alien than human. Rather than voice their horrifying memories associated with the mineral, Kerry and Syrena merely nodded as they slipped the deadly mineral into their pockets.

"It's not enough to completely drain her powers, but it'll definitely keep her from breaching the highway speed limit." Just as Rebecca was about to turn the corner and chase after the Conclave member, she said, "You don't have to do this, you know. I… I hate this, what Daphne's made you do, but I suppose there's no backing out now. Still, as an Enclave member, I can request that you stay out of this. You _do _have a choice."

"No," Syrena said in a deadly soft tone. "No, I don't think we ever had a choice, not now, not when we first found the Enclave, not when we first discovered our Elements, not even when we first knew what it meant to have a choice at all. I think we're all bound by something greater, something that relies on the good of many, not just the desires of self. We were meant for a higher purpose than just standing by, and I don't think we would even if we wanted to. You mean too much to us, Rebecca."

Rebecca forced a sad little smile at Syrena's bravery before suddenly spreading her clockwork wings in a glorious flash of bronze to let their radiance shine throughout the darkened alleyway.

Rebecca turned around to face them, her face hardened into the cold, expressionless, merciless eyes of a battle-toughened warrior. Her ink-black eyes had hardened over into obsidian that blazed with ire, and as her matching black air danced wildly into tendrils of fury whipping around her face, she was deadly and furious and graceful all at once. As Rebecca was sharply outlined against the inky shadows of twilight clashing with the last dying embers of the crimson sun, Kerry and Syrena were reminded once more that they were standing before an angel who had seen the beginning of time, who had fought a thousand battles in her fiery rage, and who harnessed an incomprehensible amount of power. She was an avenging angel, one who could hurl raging lightning bolts and rain down fire from the heavens in divine retribution. And as Kerry and Syrena stood in the peaceful eye of the ferocious storm, with winds screeching in deafening wails all around them, they could clearly hear the angel say in a whisper:

"Let's go save the world."

* * *

**Sorry that not much happened in this chapter; due to how ridiculously long it was, I have divided this chapter into two parts. Part 2, in my opinion, has a lot more action, which hopefully you'll find interesting.**

**Chapter 5 will be posted next Wednesday!**

**Love to all,**

**Bella**


	6. Reckless Decisions (KS)

**I saw the MLP Equestria Girls movie! Yup, I've been fangirling over it ever since Sunday. I'm not going to give away spoilers, but seriously, if there is a theater even remotely close to you, go and see it. It's so awesome! And above all, make sure you stay until the _very end of the credits. _**

**Now that that's out of the way, onto the story!**

* * *

_"Let's go save the world."_

And they were off, sprinting through the deserted streets of the Angelic Black Market. Kerry and Syrena's combat boots were pounding against the pavement, the pattering thuds ringing loudly in the empty space, while Rebecca, cursing the low ceilings of the underground rendezvous, was forced to flatten her outstretched wings for maximum aerodynamics. Every time Syrena snuck a glance at Rebecca, her face was steeled in a stoic, silent fury as she entered battle mode.

"I can't believe they sent a Conclavian," Rebecca murmured to herself. "Usually they would send a Sionite…"

Kerry and Syrena didn't have time to ask what a Sionite was before they found themselves racing up the miles of steps to the ground level of Fukuoka until, in less time than ether girl would have thought possible, they were bursting through the door to join the bustling crowds of one of Japan's largest cities.

It was quite disorienting for Kerry and Syrena to say the least, to see all those people milling around and carrying on small banter without a care in the world in light of the recent revelation they had undergone. It was almost like they expected the entire world to be flipped upside down to match theirs as it was suddenly revealed that not all was as it seemed, that the greatest secrets of the world were hidden just below the ground, hidden in plain sight. And yet, they went about their normal business, oblivious as always. They felt like aliens, separated from regular humans by miles and miles of dark chasms filled with knowledge of what was truth and lies, what was reality and fantasy, what was impossible and what was a miracle.

"How are we supposed to find her in this crowd?" asked Syrena. "She could have already flown away!"

"She was a red-haired woman; it shouldn't be that hard," Rebecca said, her gaze already probing the massive waves of people surging in from buses and shops during the afternoon rush hour. "As for flying away, if you think the Enclave is low-profile, you have no idea how the Conclave of Lexicon operates. Stealth is fundamental in everything they do, and causing a public display of her powers is the last thing a Conclave member would do. She's somewhere nearby; all we have to do is find her."

"Um, Rebecca?" Kerry asked before the fallen angel was about to step out of the darkened alley and into full view. "Shouldn't you do something about… you know…" Kerry cast a pointed look at Rebecca's rather conspicuous wings.

"Kerry, no human can see me unless they truly believe in the existence of angels," Rebecca explained kindly. "I'm going to fly overhead while you and Syrena search the ground, okay?"

With a battle plan ready, the trio took off, with Rebecca spreading her majestic bronze wings in flight, and the two wiki girls sprinting through the bustling crowd as they scanned the mass of people for a shock of scarlet hair.

After nearly twenty minutes of roughly elbowing their way through the crowd (and more than a few cries of protest from a few indignant passerby), Kerry and Syrena were becoming more than a little disheartened with their search, Syrena especially, as she was plagued with a problem of her own.

"Ahh! Why does everything look so blurry?" she cried irritably. This was the second time today, when the whole world suddenly shifted into a fuzzy kaleidoscope of color, with some people glowing a resplendent white as if lit by an internal lantern, while others gave off a dark, foreboding aura with very real shadows clinging to them like vile snakes. And if that weren't enough, whenever she focused on a person for too long, her mind was suddenly bombarded with a rush of incoherent and disjointed thoughts and emotions, all streaming through her brain with a searing agony.

"Kerry, what's happening to me?!" Syrena cried as she collapsed onto the sidewalk and tried to look away from Kerry's shimmering white glow.

"Rebecca!" Kerry screamed, waving her arms dramatically in an attempt to get the angel's attention.

"Wait," Syrena breathed, suddenly struck with a crazy idea as she saw the angel descend from the sky. "Rebecca!" she suddenly cried, getting up and grabbing the angel by her shoulders. "Please listen to me, this is very important: In that split second when you saw the Conclave girl, what emotions was she giving off?"

"Syrena, I don't know why—"

"Anger? Sadness? Revenge? I really need to know," Syrena demanded, forcing the pain to the back of her mind and ignoring the strange looks she was attracting from speaking to a person none of them could see.

"I'd have to say solemnity," Rebecca responded as she racked her brains. "And an almost icy sense of purpose. But I still don't understand why—"

But Syrena cut her off, clamping her hands firmly over her ears as she tried to fully concentrate on the blurry auras surrounding her.

"Ugh!" she cried in frustration at having the whole world look like the awful 240p quality on Youtube. Syrena squeezed both her eyes shut in annoyance.

"Syrena…?" Kerry breathed in disbelief. "Y-you… I… t-there's…. gold…"

Kerry's incoherence was understandable, for the moment Syrena's eyes flickered open, she no longer had one blue and one yellow eye, but rather two gold, pupiless eyes gleaming with an abnormal brightness.

And for Syrena, everything was suddenly brought with a jolt into flawless HD quality, and she was able to pinpoint her target with ease.

_…I should be getting back to the Conclave before Lucia starts wondering where I am…_

"There!" Syrena shouted triumphantly as her eyes shifted back to normal, pointing to the origin of the now static-free thoughts streaming through her head. From what the others could see amidst the crowd, she was a young woman, about in her mind-twenties, with flaming red hair that stood out starkly against her all-black, militaristic gear. She was glancing around covertly as she set off in search for a deserted area in the distance.

"Very good, Syrena," Rebecca asked, pushing off all her questions for a later, more appropriate time. "Now girls, we mustn't let her know of our presence until we're in range to release the Lexonite. Come on, let's go."

And so they did, their tread growing ever more cautious as the crowd steadily thinned, leaving them all the more prone to discovery. They hardly dared to breathe, and they put even more distance between themselves and the halfling until they were a good ten meters away. Slowly, the towering buildings changed to boulevards lined with trees, which changed to sandy dunes and gravel. As they walked, it felt as though the night snatched hold over every little commonplace object along the way and twisted it into something dark and sinister, from a cute little squirrel dashing across the sidewalk to a nearby church bell tolling the hour. This only added to the growing anxiety that threatened to snap their nerves, causing them to become every more cautious and on alert.

The tension was easily noticeable, written the stiff muscles in their necks, their bated breath, and the apprehension in their eyes as they jumped at every little thing that passed by, regarding it all with the deepest mistrust. It was even apparent in the way they walked as they started to channel their more primitive instincts brought on by their Elements. Syrena soon noticed her movements becoming more arched, dangerously feminine, almost like a mighty wolf prowling through the forest. Meanwhile, Kerry was clearly struggling to restrain herself from galloping into the night; nevertheless, she still reared like a horse when startled, an often occurrence. It seemed the only one who was immune to this fear was Rebecca, striding gracefully in front of them in a pronouncement of her divinity. She still wore a steely mask of indifference, one that must have taken millennia to fully master. There was no apprehension in her eyes, but rather wrath, like she was out to squash a particularly bothersome insect. It was only then that it occurred to Kerry and Syrena how often Rebecca must have found herself in this situation, locked in combat with the Conclave as the two clashing societies had done for centuries.

It did raise the question, however, of how Rebecca viewed the Conclave of Lexicon. Did she really despise these half-aliens, or was she just acting on Daphne's orders? If given the choice, would she even be fighting this war at all?

More importantly, should they?

All of these were questions both Kerry and Syrena were dying to ask, but as it turned out, neither of them got the chance. For it was not long before they found the halfling walking down now entirely deserted pier, where at long last, there were no witnesses.

Syrena knew from the plan they had discussed in covert whispers along the way that this was her cue. Slowly, she broke away from the group and started to walk faster, perfectly in time with the hammering beating of her heart, like a frantic bird desperate to free itself of its cage. She put one hand to the hilt of the knife tucked away in her belt, and the other to the vial of powdered Lexonite, as she replayed the plan in her head once more:

_"Your vial is lined with a thin coating of laboratory-engineered Zhinite, a mineral which will neutralize the Lexonite's radiation and thus will not alert the halfling to your arrival until you take the powder out of the vial. Your part is simple, Syrena. All you have to do is get close enough to use the Lexonite on her. Then, you _have _to disarm her of any holy water or blessed iron I'm sure she's carrying, so I can jump in with Kerry to overtake her."_

_"Don't worry," Rebecca added upon noticing Syrena's nauseous expression. "She won't be trying to kill you. You're a Symbol of Beauty; if anything, Lucia wants you captured so she can use you to her advantage, not kill you."_

Syrena replayed these words over and over as she inched ever closer to the Conclave member, slowly closing the gap between them until she was almost close enough to have her nervous breathing tickle the half-Lexiconian's throat.

With a silent gulp in an effort to calm herself, Syrena glanced over her shoulder one more time at Rebecca and Kerry, who were merely silhouettes safely tucked away in the shelter of some nearby trees.

Cursing herself for being the athlete of the group, Syrena lifted the weapon over her head and squeezing her eyes shut in fear, blindly plunged it with a cry into what Syrena hoped was the halfling's chest.

But apparently, the Conclave member had heard Syrena and anticipated the attack, for she merely stepped to the side just in time to save herself without batting an eye before drawing a knife of her own.

Panicking into hysteria, Syrena fumbled to unstop the cork of the vial before dumping the entire contents over the halfling, making her flaming red hair all the more scarlet. Immediately on impact, the halfling started trembling in fits of racking coughs as she collapsed to the ground in desperation to get the toxic poison out of her lungs.

Syrena seized this opportunity to wildly stab her knife in random places with one hand and hold down the Conclavian's thrashing body with the other. Tears of hysteria and terror streaked down her face to match her panicked screams as through blurry vision caused for another reason than strange auras, her violent jabs finally hit a target, causing hot, sticky blood to gush like a fountain into her face. She screamed and screamed and screamed, trying to get herself to stop, but her hands were acting of their own volition, only brandishing the knife that more than half the time made contact with the pavement than human flesh, and the other found itself creeping ever closer to the halfling's throat.

And yet somehow, in the midst of this gory scuffle, the tables had turned, and the halfling somehow found herself on top of Syrena, weapon knocked out of her hand and squirming limbs pinned down. She pointed her knife downward at Syrena's exposed chest, and even in her weakened state, Syrena knew it wouldn't take much to drive the knife home.

"We have to help her!" Kerry cried in alarm, starting to run toward her best friend before she was held back by Rebecca's firm grasp.

"No," Rebecca said, not taking her eyes off of the distant struggle. "Give her a chance."

"You are such a fool," the Conclavian hissed malevolently. "No human has a prayer of defeating me."

"Well, maybe I shouldn't be a human then," Syrena teased with a smile, her sky blue eyes twinkling with laughter before, with a bubbling distortion of skin, she morphed into a sleek grey wolf. Then, with a feral snarl, Syrena wrought herself free from the once iron grasp of the Conclavian, currently slack from shock. She gracefully leapt from the pavement, into the halo of light shining from the full moon overhead, and landed directly on top of the halfling.

The battle continued like this for quite some time, with Syrena constantly morphing in and out of her wolf form as she swiftly darted around the halfling, still recovering from the Lexonite. For the most part, she disregarded all her training from the Enclave headquarters and simply acted on instinct, and to her surprise, she found herself to be an adept fighter. Finally, Syrena was able to locate the bottle of holy water and clamping it in her powerful jaws, hurled it thirty feet, over the sandy beach, and into the choppy waters to sink to the very bottom.

This drove the Conclavian into an unbridled rage. With an inhuman yell, she used all of her superhuman strength to hurl Syrena flying wildly through half a dozen mighty oak trees and onto the forest ground, where she lay in human form, whimpering in pain at the hundreds of painful wood chippings embedded in her skin.

Taking pride in her handiwork, the Conclavian flew through the Syrena-shaped gaps in the trees to draw an knife directly over Syrena's weak and bleeding form.

Syrena's wide, terrified eyes were nearly luminescent in the darkness as giving up all hope, she screamed, her words streaming together in one incoherent mess, "Oh dear God, oh God, oh God, no, no, no, I'm going to die!"

The all of a sudden, there was a scream in the distance and then the thunderous galloping of horse hooves, followed by a deafening bang like a firework, causing the halfling to cry out in agony as she staggered to the side to reveal Kerry, pointing a gun and looking absolutely horrified.

"Oh God," Kerry cried, horrified, tears streaming down her face. "I… I fired a gun!"

Kerry collapsed to the ground to hysterically cry with Syrena as Rebecca sprang into action. Drawing her two curved saber blades, the angel faced the Conclavian, the two immortals circling each other, waiting for the other to make the first move.

"Fancy seeing you here, Scarlette," Rebecca called tauntingly, all the while casting a few uneasy glances at Kerry and Syrena as she tried to stay protectively in front of them at all times. "Since when does Lucia send one of her top advisors on a petty assassin mission?"

"I wouldn't exactly call killing you, of all fallen angels, a petty mission," Scarlette countered. "Or does Daphne not deem you important anymore?"

"Daphne has full confidence in my abilities, and even if she didn't, she has enough kindness in her heart to not send me on a suicide mission."

"Normally I'd agree when you say the Angel of Compassion has kindness, but with Daphne, she's growing more heartless by the day, I hear," Scarlette remarked.

"She's not going to Turn," Rebecca said confidently, "and neither am I."

"Really?" Scarlette scoffed. "Because it seems to me that Bad Outcomes suits you, Rebecca, after what's just happened with your precious Elements back there. Honestly, I didn't expect them to be out in the open on missions with you. I just came to kill you, but now that they're here, it changes everything, doesn't it? I know I'm not one to judge on morals, but I must say, it's rather irresponsible of you."

Rebecca calmly closed her eyes at this jibe, for she knew that no matter how true the words were, it would not fare well to let it rile her temper.

Scarlette sighed. "Angels and temperance, it's sicken—"

The halfling's words were cut off by a sudden swing of the saber blade by Rebecca, just barely missing the throat. At once, the two immortals launched into battle, kicking and spinning in such a complex flurry of movement that it was almost impossible to follow. Regardless, it was clear to anyone watching that Rebecca had a very graceful fighting style, her movements becoming one fluid dance that narrowly slipped past Scarlette's attacks like water, while Scarlette was more animalistic, darting in and out like a striking cobra as she searched tirelessly for a flaw in Rebecca's defensives. No one really had the upper hand, although Rebecca was able to slowly drive Scarlette away from Kerry and Syrena until they were totally concealed behind the thick foliage. Rebecca still had her own vial of Lexonite tucked away, but she didn't dare use it for fear of missing and wasting her one possible chance, so instead she waited patiently, biding her time until the opportunity presented itself.

And in a way, the opportunity did present itself, although its execution was not quite as perfect as Rebecca hoped. It was when out of nowhere, Scarlette flung a knife with expert precision not at Rebecca, but into the thick foliage of forest where Kerry and Syrena were hiding in terror. Seconds after, a girl's scream clearly rang out, followed by a bone-chilling silence. It was in that moment that Rebecca realized that true silence was far more sinister than just an absence of sound, as she stood, frozen in trepidation, as a vortex sucked in the rustling of leaves, the chattering of woodland creatures, and even the tremors of her own frantically beating heart. All these sounds of life were dragged away into the void as Rebecca strained her ears, desperate for even the faintest sound of Kerry and Syrena: footsteps, another scream, and even a heartbeat throbbing with life.

There was none.

Eyes wide with alarm, Rebecca's head first swiveled in the direction of the shadowy forest before turning back to meet Scarlette's smirking face as she was torn with indecision.

But of course, it was clear what Rebecca intended to do. With a cry of hatred, Rebecca flung the vial of Lexonite at Scarlette's feet before taking off in a mad dash into the forest, all the while hoping that the Lexonite would leave Scarlette incapacitated long enough for her to return in time.

"Girls!" Rebecca cried as she tore through what felt like the millionth bramble to reach the clearing where they were. "Are you alright?"

"T-The knife… c-came out of n-nowhere!" Kerry choked out through her sobs of steadily rising hysteria.

"Yes, I know, but did it hit either of you?" the angel asked worriedly yet impatiently.

"No, it didn't," Syrena replied, her arms and legs still covered in scratches and blood from the wood chippings. "But it came awfully close. It stuck on that tree over there, just a foot away from us."

Rebecca sighed in relief. She hadn't really expected the knife to reach its target, but she knew she'd never be able to forgive herself if she were wrong and she hadn't been there in time. Still, it was awfully inconvenient to be stuck in a forest with two comatose, teenage mortals, one in need of some serious medical attention, and the other shell-shocked.

"Come on, girls, we have to go back and stop Scarlette," Rebecca chided, hoping this would rouse them to action.

It did the exact opposite. "No way," Kerry said, shaking her head resolutely. "There's no way we can go back there with Syrena in this state. We can't, we just can't!"

"I don't want to do this anymore!" Syrena cried, rocking back and forth with her head in her hands. "It's too much, I can't take it! I'd rather die!"

"If you let Scarlette get away, you're both in even more danger than you are now," the angel reasoned. "She'll report your location to Lucia, and then it's not just going to Scarlette after you. She was just a lucky chance, only out to get me. If Lucia knows where you are, she'll send out legions. You'll never be safe."

When this only increased the panicked screams, Rebecca tried another approach. "You don't have to fight, okay? I'll take down Scarlette, but you still need to come with me. I can't leave you all alone in the forest. Come with me as far as the dock, where it's safer, and we'll try and find some shelter for you two to hide in. After I take down Scarlette, I'll take you back to the Enclave headquarters, and we can decide things there, okay?"

The girls knew they had no better option, and so they nodded and dried their eyes. Then, with Kerry supporting Syrena, the three made their way back to the road where Rebecca had last left Scarlette, only to discover she had vanished.

"Look, she's over there!" Kerry said to Rebecca, interrupting the fallen angel's five-minute long rant that consisted mostly of breaking the second Commandment. Kerry pointed to a lone figure staggering drunkenly down the road nearly two blocks away.

At once, the three gave chase, this time not even trying to be discreet. Hearing her pursuers from far off, Scarlette desperately tried to fight the Lexonite's effects and run, but to no avail. Still, she did have a respectable head start, and this allowed her to reach the center of the city while they were still half a block away, and barricade herself into the only open building at this ungodly hour, ironically, a small church on the corner of the street.

"She went into the church," Rebecca said bitterly, skidding to a stop in front. "We'll never be able to get her now."

"What's the problem?" Syrena demanded. "Just break through the door and go after her!"

"It's not that simple," Rebecca sighed wearily. "As a fallen angel, not only am I barred from ever being able to enter the gates of Heaven, but I am also forbidden to set foot in any consecrated place on this Earth."

"You can't be serious," Kerry said in angry disbelief. "You didn't really seem to care about the rules at the Angelic Black Market, which you clearly said was also divinely illegal, so why can't you just break the rules now?"

Rebecca replied flatly, "Bursting into a pillar of flame the minute you step through the door is a pretty effective enforcement."

"Oh," Kerry said, shame-faced. Then, in a determined tone, she declared, "Well, I'm going in."

"What?" asked Rebecca in confusion. "Why? You said—"

"Well, it's only logical," Kerry replied matter-of-factly. "This is all to protect ourselves from a greater threat, and now that you're out of commission for this mission, that leaves very little options." And without further ado, Kerry morphed into her alicorn form, a horse with both a unicorn horn and, thanks to discovering her Element, a pair of gleaming white pegasus wings.

"Hold on," Syrena said. "You make it sound like you're going without me."

At once, Kerry began to protest. "But you're—"

"I'll be fine," Syrena cut off. "What's important is making sure that crazy Conclavian doesn't turn you into glue. And maybe I failed math last year, but I know that having another fighter – okay, maybe half a fighter because of these injuries – can't hurt your chances. Besides, if you lose, she'll just end up getting us both anyway, so I might as well."

Kerry knew she couldn't argue with this logic, and so she conceded with a defeated bow of her head. _I never should have encouraged her to join Debate club with me, _the alicorn lamented to herself.

"You both are truly amazing," Rebecca praised, applauding them with a combination of wonder and pride, barely able to keep her voice from shaking with emotion. "I don't come across bravery like that very often. You're truly growing into your Elements."

With a quick nod of thanks, Kerry and Syrena prepared to charge the gauntlet. Together, they dashed up the worn stone steps to the church, where Kerry opened the door with a powerful kick from her hind legs. Then with one final look back at the fallen angel, pony and person charged into the darkened church, into the abyss of fates unknown.

Outside, Rebecca, losing all former composure, collapsed to the sidewalk in tears.

_Well, at least we'll know where to have the funeral._

* * *

"Do you see Scarlette, Kerry?" whispered Syrena, holding her knife in front of her in a defensive battle position. "Kerry?" she asked again after a few seconds of no reply. "Kerry?"

But all Kerry could do was vigorously nod her head as she brayed in frustration at her apparent lack of vocal cords.

"Oh yeah, that's right," Syrena said amusedly. "You're a horse." After a few seconds pause, she burst into laughter upon realizing her unintended pun. "Haha! You're _hoarse_! You know, horse and hoarse. Get it? It's funny!"

"So glad you've discovered the magic of homophones," Kerry remarked sarcastically, changing back into a human so Syrena could see to her full extent Kerry's annoyed, disgruntled face.

"I'm not buying it," Syrena laughed, pointing at Kerry's scrunched up face. "Look, you're trying not to smile!"

At this, Kerry completely lost her poker face and burst into a grin. "Okay, okay," she said, remembering their mission. "Now why don't you be a useful Element of Light and light up this place so we can see where Scarlette went?"

Syrena immediately obliged, turning into a wolf once more to let her shimmering coat of golden fur reflect radiant beams of light all throughout the deserted church to slowly settle and meld themselves into dozens of miniature suns hovering mysteriously overhead.

"Wow, that helps a lot!" Kerry exclaimed, complimenting Syrena's handiwork. "You have to teach me that sometime, Syrena!" No reply. "Wait, Syrena?"

The grey wolf next to Kerry rolled her eyes and gave Kerry a pointedly exasperated and unamused look that said '_Seriously?' _before morphing back into her human form once more.

"Come on, let's just go find Scarlette," Syrena said as she cupped one of her mini-suns in her hand to serve as a lantern. She was just about to take a step forward when she stopped short, her eyes unnaturally wide.

"Hey, what's wrong, Syrena?" Kerry asked concernedly, noticing Syrena's sudden pallid complexion. "Your face is really pale. You've probably lost a fair amount of blood by now; maybe you should leave this to me."

"Kerry, behind you!" Syrena screamed.

Kerry had just enough time to turn around before she left the icy chill of a razor-sharp blade pressed against the major arteries of her neck. Kerry's breath caught in her throat with fear as she felt her vital lifeblood throbbing against the pressure of the knife, which could cut it off so quickly that she wouldn't even have the time to scream.

At once, Kerry froze, not daring to move a muscle. Unlike all the heroes in movies, she didn't scream, cry, or kick her way free, because there was a _freaking knife _at her throat, and if you valued your life, that wasn't something you did_._

"As you could probably guess," Scarlette drawled, addressing Syrena. Scarlette's eyes were fogged over with madness, her breathing heaving and rapid, and her skin overly flushed, all signs that the Lexonite was slowly eating away at her sanity. "Your options are very simple. You can either willing come with me, leaving the Element of Hope unharmed, or you can resist, and that altar becomes the murder sight of a sacrificial lamb. Your choice."

"That doesn't scare me," Syrena lied, trying to keep her head on straight. "It's an empty threat. Lucia wants to get the Symbols of Beauty to control, not kill."

"Correction," Scarlette sneered. "Lady Lucia only needs one Symbol to control, and so far, she has her sights set on Love. You two are just back-ups, ways to break Love more efficiently. You're convenient," Scarlette hissed as she paused from dramatic effect, sending chills of foreboding down Syrena's spine, "but by no means necessary.

"Besides," she continued, "one can still be an Element, even without, say, an arm or a leg." Scarlette punctuated this statement by drawing a second knife, which she placed threateningly in front of each limb as it was mentioned.

"So, what are you going to do, Element of Light?" Scarlette demanded.

That was a good question. All her life, Syrena had been known to be brash and headstrong, but in such a dire situation, she couldn't afford to make a decision she would regret for the rest of her life. Her pride strongly refused any form of surrender, and so her first instinct was to openly challenge Scarlette and take the chance of having both of them get away unharmed. It was a possible feat, but was she really willing to gamble her friend on that chance?

Torn over her weighty choice, Syrena locked eyes with Kerry, who was looking positively terrified. She didn't dare speak, but her eyes clearly read, _It's not worth it, Syrena._

Finally, she looked to the towering statues of the saints, all looking down upon her with icy contempt. It felt as though the whole world was waiting with bated breath as she stood alone in the spotlight, not knowing her lines, not knowing the right answer, not even knowing if there was one to begin with.

With one last sorrowful glance at the altar, Syrena sent up her silent prayer.

_Forgive me, God._

"Do it. Kill her."

Just seconds after, Syrena's eyes began to glow a brilliant gold as she began her transformation to defend her friend, but Kerry was faster. Fist raised high over her head, she smashed her own vial of Lexonite, that had been tucked away in her pocket, onto the spotless marble of the church floor, the impact causing the delicate glass to shatter and release the deadly mineral in a thick red haze.

At once, Scarlette stumbled backward, coughing horribly as she tried to stay as far away from the Lexonite as possible. Kerry's knees buckled from shocked relief, and Syrena immediately ran to her side in concern, leaving them on the other side of the Lexonite barrier.

Finally, Scarlette realized with a sinking pang that there was no way this mission would be a success. She glared with boiling fury at the two girls, and she looked even more terrifying with her eyes coated in red, either from the Lexonite haze or something far more sinister. Then, once she was on the far side of the church, safely out of range of the Lexonite, she situated herself directly below an open skylight and prepared to take flight.

"Oh no you don't!" Syrena declared, already morphing into her wolf form. Using her powerful hind legs, she sprang like a coil a good nine feet into the air to have her jagged teeth sink deeply into Scarlette's dangling right leg, stopping her dead in her tracks.

But Scarlette wouldn't have any of this, and so, she violently shook herself from Syrena's relentless grip and kicked the wolf clear to the other side of the room, where she lay whimpering and defeated, her pride broken.

With one last satisfied smirk, Scarlette took off into the sky, now tinged with the soft blue and pink hues that heralded the dawn, leaving nothing behind her but a trail of white light streaking across the sky like a fallen star before the crest of daybreak.

"What happened to Scarlette?" Syrena, now human once more, demanded worriedly, although she already knew the answer. "She didn't get away, did she?"

"I'm sorry," Kerry said, shamefaced. "She's gone."

In her despair, Syrena buried her head in her hands. If she had any tears left after that night's traumatizing events, she would have shed them, but instead she had to settle for a series of choked gurgling noises, halfway between a sob and a scream, as she tried to come to terms with her failure. "Tonight's been a disaster, Kerry," she lamented. "An absolute disaster! Oh Kerry, what are we going to do?"

But Kerry wasn't listening. She was on the other side of the church, exactly where Scarlette had made her escape, and was kneeling down in close inspection of something Syrena couldn't see.

In triumph, Kerry held up to the light a shining silver medallion, most likely dropped from Scarlette's pocket when Syrena had latched hold on her. Syrena couldn't understand the significance of this, but Kerry had the widest grin plastered on her face when she declared,

"Maybe not a _total _disaster."

* * *

**Yup, our first major fight in the story. I tried to tone down the violence a bit, but still, tell me what you think!**

**Next chapter focuses on Jenny's daily life, with the introduction of a new minor character. Here's a sneak peak!**

_Her eyes locked in steely rage, Jessica, confident and fearless, marched straight up to Jenny, swiped the plagiarized essays from her slack grip, and proceeded, to Jenny's horror, to shred them into halves, the quarters, then eights, before tossing them into a clump of dirty brown slush by the curb. _

_"What… what have you done?!" Jenny screamed after recovering from her initial shock at seeing the torn up answers._

_"I'm done," Jessica declared, roughly handing Jenny back her twenty dollars as she forgot her previous reservations of self-control and let all her pent up anger and frustration explode like a volcano. Her voice steadily rose and rose until she was screaming herself hoarse. "I'm done doing this for you. You don't deserve to pass sophomore year, and you don't deserve my help. I'm not going to let you take advantage of me anymore. I'm going to find someone who appreciates my talents, who will get good grades honestly, and who isn't a horrid, rotten brat like you!"_

Yeah... Jessica and Jenny don't exactly have the best relationship. Chapter 6, "The Merits of Friendship," is coming next Wednesday. Ciao for now!

**Love to all,**

******Bella**


	7. The Merits of Friendship (J)

**Hi everyone! Hope you're all having a great week! I can't believe that June's almost ending; before I realize it, it's going to be school again. :( But we don't have to think about that now, because I have a new chapter up! However, I have one notice before I start. In this chapter, there is this one short scene that I think people will find more disturbing than usual, and that I myself would rate M. It is italicized and underlined, and if anyone wishes to skip it, you won't be missing out on much. (In fact, my two best friends caught me writing it in my notebook some time ago, and boy, you should've seen their faces. :D)**

**Also, if you've taken a quick glance at the chapter list, you may have noticed some strange letters added at the end. I've just added those, because I realized that in a three-arch story, it's easy to get confused and forget things between updates. Because of this, I have marked all my chapters with letters detonating which arch(s) it includes. Here's the key:**

**J = Jenny  
En = Enclave (Mulan, Lucie, WordGirl, etc.)  
KS = Kerry and Syrena  
All = ...Well, all three archs. (Towards the end, this will also mean when all three come together.)**

**Hopefully this will help you to look back upon previous chapters if you're confused or just want to refresh your memory. This particular chapter is Jenny's, so feel free to reread the last few paragraphs of the last chapter if you want. *waits 5 seconds* Okay, let's get started!**

* * *

St. Francis Preparatory College was nearly every parent's dream school. You could see it plainly, from the tidy and graffiti-free hallways, to the almost unnaturally green football field with perfectly trimmed hedges to match; from the entire room lined with cabinets filled with the academy's numerous athletic and academic awards, to the polite and disciplined mannerisms of the students (that is, until you looked the other way). It was a school filled with young men and women who respected authority, had well-grounded ideals and morals, and worked toward their aspirations to be upstanding individuals in society. These were the type of students you saw participating in after school activities, industriously studying at the library, and volunteering during monthly service fairs at the local parish. No one was caught slacking off or loitering in alleyways. You would be kicked out long before then, for St. Francis was especially diligent in uprooting any weeds that threatened the garden of its coveted reputation as one of the top private schools in the country.

This same mentality was also apparent in the students. When you walked into a classroom and asked what each student wanted to be, they would sit up rigidly straight, tuck in their shirts, and bombard you with a chorus of three words: doctor, lawyer, or professor. They were little more than mindless robots, trained for perfection and instilled with a desire to live up to whatever society asked of them without question. It was disturbing to say the least, yet somehow it fell right into alignment with what every parent could have desired from a school, and from the moment you scraped up a passing grade on their rigorous entrance exam and onward, they would constantly remind you of how lucky you were to be there.

But Jenny felt anything but lucky as she sat bored out of her mind as the Pledge and Prayer concluded on the PA system. She even went as far to flip to a blank sheet of notebook paper and absentmindedly doodle while their new math teacher, Miss Eldridge, took attendance.

"Margret Leona?"

"Present."

"Erin Lattice?"

"Present."

"Shannon Donella?"

"Present."

"Jennifer Swan?"

"Here!"

Immediately, 23 heads swiveled around simultaneously to openly gawk at Jenny.

_For the love of Celestia, I just used a freaking synonym! _Jenny thought to herself, amazed at their density, before returning to her detailed sketch of a dancing penguin wearing a top hat, not paying Miss Eldridge any of her attention or respect.

In all honesty, the only thing that saved St. Francis from falling into complete boredom in Jenny's eyes was its rumor mill, and it had been churning at lightning speed 24/7 ever since it had been confirmed that Miss Eldridge was taking the place of St. Francis' previous math teacher, Mrs. Walsh. From the cloudy circumstances regarding Mrs. Walsh's unexpected resignation to the fact that she had apparently been brought to St. Francis from a high-profile university overseas, Miss Eldridge's formerly ambiguous profile had been twisted by nearly every overly gossiping soccer mom into a bloody trail of violence, betrayal, and intrigue. According to them, Miss Eldridge had blackmailed Mrs. Walsh into resignation, was secretly working for Russian intelligence, and was – a sin above all others – Muslim.

And while Jenny didn't take their word seriously (after all, these were the same people who had brought her panicked news of the apocalypse during a particularly rainy summer storm), but she was far from liking her, and not just because she was her teacher. Whether it was her faded, dull hair that was more grey than blonde for a 25-year-old or her pinched and scrunched up face that gave the impression of a sour and irritable personality, accentuated by her sharp demands and plethora of evil stares, there was something about her that set Jenny on edge. While Miss Eldridge did seem off-kilter, to Jenny, she still represented the epitome of normalcy, a phenomenon she was constantly trying to repress. The only reason Jenny showed her even a glimmer of respect was the fact that she also had a part-time job as a police officer on the weekends.

Today, however, Jenny was completely oblivious to the Trigonometry lesson at hand, for she was too focused on scribbling yet another segment of her morbid thoughts in her notebook:

_Sometimes, I like to play a game._

_The objective is simple: Look around the room and think of as many creative ways to kill myself as possible._

_With a pencil, I could easily gouge out my eyes before cutting through a few vital nerves on the way to stab the frontal lobe of my brain. A notebook's curled wire could constrict around my neck until I asphyxiated. A pair of scissors? Too easy. It could slit both of my wrists before finding its wonderfully sharp blade jammed within the inner chambers of my heart. A folder would be trickier, but rolled into a cylinder, it would be the perfect device to shove down my throat until I choked to death. Alone, a textbook and a classroom window could do little more than serve as a tool to bash out my brains, a rather uncreative demise, but combined, a textbook hurled into the window could provide just enough of an opening for me to hurl myself from the ledge, plummet four stories, and kiss the broken pavement with my bloodstained lips._

_A thousand ways, a thousand possibilities, a thousand chances to meet my demise._

_And I didn't have the courage to commit a single one of them._

"Hey, what's wrong, Jenny?" asked Addison in an undertone, her wide, concerned eyes taking up the majority of Jenny's vision. The sound of her friend's voice brought Jenny back to reality, and so she slammed shut the notebook, unable to let those gruesome words of death see the light of the life-giving sun. "You tuned out for a second. Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she replied, just barely suppressing the choked strangle in her voice as she forced out the lie. "Don't worry about me. I'm just fine."

* * *

"You failed the quiz today, didn't you?" said Lisa, clutching her textbooks to her chest as they walked out of 7th period Biology and joined the swarming mass of grey plaid skirts; solid black pants; ties; and neatly pressed, white collared shirts. They were all clamoring for the wide double doors leading into the parking lot just after the dismissal bell rang.

"No," Jenny retorted. "C is an average grade, not a failing one."

"Still, you'll never be able to get into Excelsia with grades like that."

Jenny sighed, exasperated. Located way out East in New York state, Excelsia was one of the most prestigious universities in the country, and was often considered a second-tier Ivy League school. With St. Francis being one of Excelsia's largest feeder schools, all any aspiring student talked about was 'Excelling' or 'going out East' the minute they walked out the doors with a diploma. It often felt to Jenny that her only two options after St. Francis was to either be accepted into Excelsia or to drop out, with her picture in the framed composite of her class being burnt away in shame.

"I just don't see why it's _so _important for me to go to Excelsia!" Jenny burst out loudly, but not enough to cause a scene.

"But your parents and everyone else wants you to go—"

"They don't have to make decisions for me," Jenny countered. "I have my own mind, my own hopes and dreams, and I can think for myself. I'm not stupid, Lisa!"

"But even with my intelligence, I don't understand you," Lisa replied with a sigh. "You want to prove that you're not stupid, yet you won't even try to be accepted in one of the most acclaimed universities in America."

"I… I just wish I could find a way to prove myself without having to go to Excelsia," Jenny said sadly. By this time, the two friends were outside with the other students. With a sigh, Jenny plopped herself down on one of the many open benches scattered throughout St. Francis' courtyard. "I don't want to become like everyone else, Lisa. I would die before that happened. Being forced to live a perfectly normal life… how would anyone ever notice me like that? Success or money wouldn't matter to me if I still went to bed at the end of the day and realized no one would really care if I never woke up. I want to prove that there is a way to be amazing without being smart or rich or famous."

"See, with you," Jenny continued, "you're really smart, Lisa. You know everything. Addison's so cheerful and upbeat, people can't help but love her. All I can do is paint. Sure, it's my special talent, but what good is it if it's never used for any good in the world? And that… that's really my dream, I guess. My parents say art will never help me amount to anything. Everyone else says so too, and I'm honestly starting to believe them. I just want to prove to everyone that I'm not useless. I want to do something extraordinary. I want to change the world, and I want to do it my own way, with my own dreams."

Lisa shook her head in pity as she took a seat next to Jenny. "It's not that simple, you know. One person can't change the world, no matter how unique you want to be."

"Well, what would you know about it?" Jenny replied defensively. "You want to go to Excelsia too, just like everyone else. And don't tell me it's because you've always wanted to. Don't you want to follow your own dreams?"

"Oh Jenny, you just don't get it, do you?" said Lisa. "You don't have to be famous or recognized to change the world, and it's not the only way to be unique or follow your dreams."

"I'm late for choir practice," Lisa added after taking a glance at her watch. "I'm sorry, Jenny, but I really have to go. We can talk more about this later, right? Besides, I think Jessica's waiting to say something to you." Lisa gestured to a nearby tree, where a young sophomore girl was standing and nervously fidgeting while she constantly shot glances at Jenny and Lisa.

Jenny gave a noncommittal grunt as Lisa sprinted toward the adjacent church, leaving Jessica to instantly take her place.

"Hi Jenny," Jessica said, her voice soft yet not shy in the slightest, sounding only as if someone had taken an assertive voice and simply lowered the volume. She was distinctly Asian, with her sharp, angular eyes a beautiful hazel, although somewhat obscured by her glasses with thick black frames. Her hair, which somehow managed to incorporate nearly every imaginable shade of brown, was twisted into a messy bun, held in place by two pencils. She didn't scream nerd, but she was pretty close. After all, this girl had serious brains. If Lisa was smart, Jessica was out-of-this-galaxy smart, straight into the far away universe of 'I-placed-12th-in-the-National-Scholastic-Bowl' and 'I'm-riding-on-a-full-paid-scholarship-at-St.-Fran cis-and-am-garantueed-a-top-spot-at-Excelsia' smart.

But Jenny paid no attention to any of this; after all, these little meetings had been going on for months now, making Jenny fully aware of Jessica's appearance and intellectual status. No, what interested Jenny more was the stack of neatly stapled papers in Jessica's hand.

"Come on, let's go someplace more secluded," Jessica said, leading Jenny away from the crowd of students milling around in wait for the bus until they were out of sight, hidden behind a wall of neatly trimmed hedges. Jessica was bursting with excitement, thrilled to be breaking the rules like this. Jenny, on the other hand, was sick of Jessica's bubbly antics.

"Jessica, cheating is not a freaking state secret," Jenny said, annoyed. "Half of the students here do it. Just hand them over already."

Jessica hung her head in silent shame and embarrassment before dolling out the papers. "Here's the research paper on the arctic tundra's ecosystem for Biology," she stated, "and these are this week's Trig assignments. Then here's that five paragraph essay on the aftermath of the American Civil War."

"Great," Jenny said as she handed Jessica a twenty-dollar bill. As always, Jenny was relieved Jessica was naïve enough to sell her work for such a cheap price; she knew some people who would charge 25 dollars for a single PowerPoint. "This should do for the month. I'll give you a list of other homework in about three weeks so you can get started."

Jessica was irritated by this rude, abrupt dismissal, but as always, being the compliant and non-confrontational person she was, she just kept her mouth shut and didn't complain.

"Now," Jenny said pleasantly, "all I have to do is catch the…" She suddenly trailed off heard the roaring engine of the school bus start up. Taking off at a sprint, she skidded to a stop at the front of the school just in time to see the bus turn the corner of the parking lot and drive out of sight.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Jenny shouted angrily just as Jessica caught up to her. In her frustration, Jenny immediately rounded on Jessica. "It's all your fault!" she vehemently accused. "If you weren't so worried about getting your precious little reputation sullied by being caught cheating, I wouldn't have missed it!"

"I'm sorry…" Jessica apologized meekly, her quiet, shaky voice trailing off into tears pattering steadily onto the concrete.

"I don't turn 16 until next month!" Jenny continued ranting, remaining completely oblivious to the apology. "I can't drive, and my parents are attending a conference this week! How am I supposed to get home now? Huh?! Tell me, Jessica!"

This was the final straw. Her eyes locked in steely rage, Jessica, confident and fearless, marched straight up to Jenny, swiped the plagiarized essays from her slack grip, and proceeded, to Jenny's horror, to shred them into halves, the quarters, then eights, before tossing them into a clump of dirty brown slush by the curb.

"What… what have you _done_?!" Jenny screamed after recovering from her initial shock at seeing the torn up answers.

"I'm done," Jessica declared, roughly handing Jenny back her twenty dollars as she forgot her previous reservations of self-control and let all her pent up anger and frustration explode like a volcano. Her voice steadily rose and rose until she was screaming herself hoarse. "I'm done doing this for you. You don't deserve to pass sophomore year, and you don't deserve my help. I'm not going to let you take advantage of me anymore. I'm going to find someone who appreciates my talents, who will get good grades honestly, and who isn't a horrid, rotten brat like you!"

"I… you… fine!" Jenny spluttered angrily before storming off in a huff, leaving Jessica looking hurt, frustrated, and above all, if it was still possible after their argument, concerned for Jenny. But these feelings where not reciprocated by Jenny, who was walking aimlessly towards the back of St. Francis with no particular destination in mind other than a place where she could find some peace of mind and justification for her actions.

_That stupid, annoying Jessica, _she thought to herself bitterly as she repeatedly kicked a stray soda can along the sidewalk path. _Good riddance. It's not like I needed her anyway. I'll show her, I'll show them all. I don't need her or anyone else. I'll achieve my dreams all by myself. I'll do it for Rosalie, for Jacob, for Amoratta, and most of all myself, because I do deserve it. After all, I'm the Element of Love! How could I not? Most of all, I'll prove it wasn't a lie. What I saw, what I did, and who I am. I'm not crazy. I'll show them all; I do have a place in this world, one that's bigger than any of them could have ever dreamed._

Coming to an abrupt halt, with the world still blurred with tears of anger, Jenny sighed.

_I just want to prove I'm not useless._

"Hey, Jenny!" called a friendly voice in the distance. Surprised, Jenny looked up to see none other than Nicole and Tess, the two London exchange students. They were lounging languidly on the hood of a sleek red convertible, one of the few cars left in the parking lot. Their uniform skirts were hitched up way past their knees, and their blouses had one too many buttons undone. As Jenny eagerly approached them, she coughed on the acrid fumes of… was it cigarette smoke?

"What's up?" Nicole called cheerfully, waving to Jenny as she held a cigarette in her hand. "Come sit with us," she added, making room for the newcomer.

At this invitation, Jenny hesitated, her gaze flipping back and forth from Nicole's expectant grin to the freshly lit cigarette in her hand. _Oh God, they're going to get me to smoke, aren't they? _Jenny began to panic and go on red alert as she remembered all those silly anti-drug posters she had drawn for art class during Red Ribbon Week. All those lectures about how just one would get her hopelessly addicted and ruin her life forever, and now it was finally happening.

"Um, a-actually, I h-have to go," Jenny stuttered, making up an excuse to leave the uncomfortable situation, just like her grammar school teachers had instructed her.

Confused, Nicole and Tess first looked at Jenny's nearly constipated-looking face and back at the cigarette as they slowly pieced things together. All of a sudden, Nicole collapsed into tiny fits of laughter.

"Oh dear," Nicole laughed once she was under control, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. "Oh darling Jenny, we're not going to pressure you to smoke. What kind of people do you think we are?"

"Y-You're not?" Jenny said, horribly confused and yet relieved at the same time.

"Don't be silly!" Nicole trilled patronizingly in her British accent. "The only reason Tess and I are doing it is because we're emancipated, remember, which means we're legally adults. We'd never force you to do something you're uncomfortable with, and even if we did, you've just proven that you're a good little Catholic schoolgirl, and you wouldn't do it anyway. Now, stop being silly and come hang out with us!"

More than a little embarrassed, Jenny took her place on the hood of the car next to Tess, who gave her a small reassuring smile that made Jenny feel much better about her mistake.

"So, how was your first day at St. Francis?" Jenny asked politely.

"To be quite honest, it was most certainly boring," Tess said in elegant British. "All the students we talked to today all have the same dull, uninteresting ambitions, like they've all been programmed to think and feel the exact same way. Hopefully, we'll be able to kick back and have fun with you, Jenny, since you're practically the only one saving us from falling comatose with boredom."

Jenny nodded enthusiastically in agreement, glad that she had finally found someone who shared her views.

"Where's the rest of the crew?" Nicole asked after flicking the cigarette butt into a nearby ashtray. "Why aren't you with Addison and Lisa?"

"Lisa's at choir practice, and last I saw, Addison was waving goodbye to her sister on the bus before she went for tutoring," Jenny replied.

"Er, shouldn't you be on that bus, Jenny?" Tess pointed out. "You're not old enough to drive, you know. I thought that girl you were talking to would give you a ride or something. I guess not, though."

"Yeah, who was that girl?" Nicole chimed in. "Are you two friends?"

Immediately, all the former rage towards Jessica, rage that had been momentarily forgotten in her embarrassment, came boiling back to the surface with full force. "Her name's Jessica," Jenny spat bitterly. "I pay her to do my homework. She thinks we're friends, but she's just so desperate and pathetic. She only does it in the hopes that someone would finally like her, like that'll ever happen."

"Dang, girl, it sounds to me like you need to let off some steam," Nicole said. "Hey, Tessie and I were just talking about swinging by Temptation Paradise. It's one of our favorite nightclubs we've discovered by driving through Denver, and it's only about an hour's drive into the city. It's pretty tame, but it's a great place to just let loose and have fun. Do you want to come with us?"

Normally, every rational particle in Jenny's brain would be screaming to back out now, but today, all she wanted to do was screw the consequences and be a rebel for once. She was a big girl now; she could handle herself without anyone telling her what to do. And besides, Nicole and Tess would be with her the entire evening. Furthermore, they were the only way Jenny would be able to get a ride home, unless she had the gall to ask Jessica for one, something her pride would never allow to happen.

"I'm in."

* * *

Meanwhile, Jessica, her wide eyes trained on Jenny and her friends, finally surfaced from her secluded hiding place amidst the brambles of the hedges and ran off into the distance.

* * *

"She's doing _what_?!" Addison exclaimed in outrage after Jessica had recounted the highlights of her reconnaissance mission. Immediately after overhearing the conversation, Jessica had gone to round up Addison and Lisa from their after school activities so that they could convene at the front of the high school to relay information and discuss a course of action.

"Temptation Paradise is one of the roughest nightclubs in Denver," Lisa said. "Bar fights break out there nearly every night, and it's one of the largest centers of drug trafficking in the city. Everyone knows that. I can't believe Nicole and Tess would even consider hanging out there, much less bring Jenny along for the ride."

"If you ask me, there's something seriously wrong with those two," Addison declared, putting her hands on her hips. "They aren't the innocent London transfer students like everyone thinks. They're hiding something; I know it! And we're the only ones who know the truth, which means we're the only ones who can stop it." For a while, Addison paused, thinking intently of what she planned to do. With an air of finality in her decision, she said, "Come girls, let's move out!"

"Wait, me too?" asked Jessica nervously, fearful that she had overstepped her boundaries of yet another clique she would be ousted from.

"Well, of course you can come, if you want to," said Lisa, as if it were the most rational conclusion in the world. "After all, you're the one who told us about Temptation Paradise."

"Welcome aboard, Jessica," Addison said with a jaunty smile as she extended her hand, which Jessica confidently shook, her meek nature somehow overcome through the reassurance of loyal friends.

"Now that that's settled," Addison said, "Let's get moving, girls."

"Let's go save Jenny!"

* * *

**Meh, I'd say this is an average chapter, a chance for things to slow down a bit while also setting up for future chapters. If you haven't already noticed, Jenny's acting much differently from Believing, that's to stay with the overall theme of this story, opposites and balance, which will become more prevalent as time goes on. So if you thinking I'm writing her out of character, don't worry, that's my goal.**

**Chapter 7 is coming next Wednesday, and to give you something to think about, it's called "Time Loop". Also, if anyone's wondering about why I haven't updated A Halfling's Tale, that's because the next (and last, I might add) chapter is in conjunction with Time Loop. So yeah, there'll be a double-update next week, and then I'll probably start cranking these out more often. So look forward to that!**

**Once again, I can't thank you guys enough for all your kind, wonderful reviews! It means so much to me to hear that people like what I'm writing. You guys are the best!**

**Love to all,**

**Bella**


	8. Time Loop (En)

**To all my American readers, happy early 4th of July! It's the one day of the year where parents will let their kids anywhere near explosives. :D Well, my parents wouldn't let me within a 50-yard range, but I'd rather look at all the pretty lights from those explosives anyway. **

* * *

All was quiet down below in the dark recesses of the crypt. Miles above, on the surface of the bustling London city, the sun would be just beginning to shyly peak over the grand steeples of the metropolis and preparing to herald the dawn with vibrant hues of flaming red and golden yellow, but here, in the secluded resting place of the dead, no shining rays of light would ever caress these weathered tombs, which was rather fitting in a way. After all, everyone knows the imprudence of waking the dead.

It was here, in this place of shadows and death that Mulan had found herself. Like a child playing with fire, the fallen angel absentmindedly let her fingers stroke the thin air separating her from the blest tombs; bearing the names of Lord Nelson, Lord Wellington, Sir Christopher Wren's, and many other nobles who were perhaps people once, but since then had been long forgotten in the pages of history that bore only names and deeds, not face or mind or heart. The mortality of it all was striking.

The tombs still reeked of incense and holy water, even after all the centuries, so she was careful to never make direct contact with the worn stone, lest she suddenly be consumed by the flames that would drag her into oblivion. Oh, how fitting, how easy it would be simply end her immortal life of hardship then and there, but she knew she couldn't. She still had a role to play in all of this, this dangerous game that had ended in tragedy every time Mulan had played.

So maybe it was time to change the rules.

Fortunately, patience was a virtue that most immortal beings learned to uphold as Mulan waited for Lucie to make one of her grand appearances. The situation reminded her horribly of the meeting on that hillside in Italy all those centuries ago, although she hoped that this time around, there would be a better ending. She wanted answers, and she intended on getting them at any cost.

"Late again, Lucia," Mulan chastised as Lucie supersped into the crypt.

"I prefer the term fashionably late," Lucie countered, this time, devoid of all sarcasm and mockery, her heart not truly in it.

"A term that can only be applied to social engagements, which given our current location, cannot possibly apply to this meeting," Mulan stated bluntly. "Regardless, I did agree to this, simply because, as you can imagine, I want answers, Lucia."

"As do I. However, I'll be a courteous hostess and let you begin."

With a curt nod, Mulan drifted through the maze of stone coffins until she was a considerable distance away from Lucie. She decided to start off with the simplest question. "You unchained me," Mulan said thoughtfully, exposing both her arms to reveal the raw, chaffed marks surrounding her wrists. "Why?"

"I wanted to speak to you as an equal," Lucie replied, to which Mulan nodded in understanding; judging by Lucie's appearance, there was a mark of sincerity. Without her typical silver diadem and scepter of gold and electrum, Lucie looked more vulnerable, less like the glorious leader of the Conclave of Lexicon and more like the innocent child Mulan had once comforted and grown to love.

Removing the figurative mask of dignity she had become so accustomed to wearing in public, Lucie's probing eyes scrutinized the angel's bedraggled appearance with a glimmer of soft concern before declaring, "Imprisonment does not suit you."

Indeed, it didn't. Over the course of Mulan's four months in captivity, her once majestic stature had devolved into one of disarray. Her shimmering azure gown bedecked with silver stars was marred by jagged rips in the seams, and her ebony hair was snarled into a crown of barbed wire. She was gaunt and haggard, with spindly bones poking out from her flesh and dark shadows rimming her eyes like bruises. Even her wings, once a resplendent bronze, had dulled to a worn copper to reflect her sadness. There was a haunted look in her eyes, most likely from being bored out of her mind as she waited in vain to learn the repercussions of her actions. She was used to beating her head forcefully against the brick walls of her prison in an attempt to break the torturous monotone of solitude. For the most part, her presence had been largely neglected, except for two Conclavians strictly forcing her to remain quiet during silent hours, 7:30 and 8:00 on weekday mornings in addition to 10:15, 11:30, 3:15, and 6:00 on Sundays, which Mulan assumed to be the times when trains from the London Underground came near the Conclave. It was a terrible feeling for Mulan to feel so powerless against her destiny when she had always been the one to fight – and in most cases, win – the battle of fighting fate.

"I heard about the passing of the Disowned Element of Love," Lucie said, referring to Rosalie Winters, the girl who had betrayed them all on Lexicon only to meet a demise of her own doing. "I am… sorry. I know how dear she must have been to you."

Mulan raised her eyebrows in surprise. Was that… sincerity? It was definitely off-kilter from her behavior the last time they met. This was probably just a way, another mind game, to throw her off her guard. That was the rational side talking, the one that had been trained for eons in Heaven to listen to reason, both to combat the powers of Hell and win the hearts of humanity. But over her centuries on Earth, Mulan had learned otherwise. Living in the mortal world had taught her, above all others, that light could dispel despair, hope was not a meaningless illusion, and love could heal even the darkest of hearts with its beauty. And oh, how she wished this were one of those times where beautiful irrationality would win out against the painful jarring of reality.

"She was indeed," Mulan lamented, although making sure to keep the majority of her emotion in check. "But I haven't grieved her loss, nor do I think I will. I have already shed far too many tears over her that they have frozen over into ice, a constant, numbing pain so customary I rarely notice it."

Lucie nodded in understanding, though her eyes still cradled a veiled haughtiness kissed with malice. "Of course, I in this timeline would have no recollection of such cosmic events, but you've turned back time quite a bit, haven't you?"

Mulan nodded as grief ravaged her aching heart and threatened to overflow into tears. "This is the 7,631 time I have gone back in time to repeat the last century." It was almost like a gauntlet had been struck, so powerful was the gravity of her statement.

"All in an attempt to destroy everything I've ever worked for," Lucie said bitterly. "You've tried to rewrite time just to defeat the Conclave of Lexicon, to defeat _me_. Why me, Mulan? Whatever happened that made you despise me so much that you wish to crush my only true desire? Am I so despicable, so horrid that I am now undeserving of the love you once readily gave me?"

"I don't wish to fight you, Mulan, you know that, right?" Lucie pleaded desperately, reaching out to her in anguish. "In a world that showed me nothing but hate and cruelty, you were the only one who ever showed me love. It's that love that made me want to form the Conclave, to save the human race from its own hatred before it's too late. Is it really so hard to believe that what I'm doing is truly for the best?"

"You only think what you're doing is good, Lucie," replied Mulan sadly. "I cannot blame you for your insanity, an insanity that has led you to commit the most inhumane acts of cruelty without remorse, all because of your delusions. You've taken away people's free will, their_ very minds_—"

"Some of the greatest geniuses in history are noted for their mental instability, and yet they were the ones who were able to bring Planet Earth into a new epoch of advancement. While what I am doing may seem immoral now, I promise you it will turn out for the best. Although, why you see my actions so despicable as to _turn back time—_"

"It's not just what you're doing," interrupted Mulan, now clasping hands with the Conclave leader. "It's what you're going to discover. It's a terrible secret, Lucie, one not even the Enclave or even you are aware of, and once it comes to light, it will destroy you, the Conclave, and even WordGirl herself. I know; I've seen it happen every single time I've turned back the clock. Plagued with guilt, you will be driven to do the unthinkable, and it will ultimately be your demise. While your curiosity may drive you to unravel this secret, I beg you not to, with every particle of my being. You know better than anyone that knowledge is both a blessing and a curse, and in this case, it is better to for me to whisper sweet lies to you than burden you with such an awful reality."

"If this… Doomsday secret even exists, why tell me of it at all? It seems so inescapable; after all, you've gone back thousands of times with no avail."

"But this time is different," Mulan said with a hint of the feverish excitement of hope. "This is the first time the Symbols of Beauty came back with me to Earth. All the other times I've gone back, all three of them perished on Planet Lexicon as the GenonaXBS killed them all," she said, referencing the device which Amoratta, a Lexiconian scientist, had created in an attempt to save her planet from Miss Power, "and it was always Rosalie, not Jenny, who was the true Element of Love. All the rules have changed now that the Symbols of Beauty have become the essential variable in this horrible time loop I've found myself in, with Jenny somehow finding herself in the center of it all."

"And yet you know she will never succeed," Lucie said. "All other Elements of Love until now have fallen, cursed to spend eternity in the Realm of Beauty Unrequited. What makes you think this time will be any different? You know that true insanity is doing the same thing twice and expecting different results."

"There's nothing else I can do. I have to keep fighting."

"But why do you have to fight at all?!" Lucie cried, losing all reservations of self-control as she reduced herself to pitiful begging. "Do you know how _painful_ this is for me? Please, just join me, Mulan. Forget the Enclave, forget your responsibility to the Elements. You keep trying to change things, but to what avail? Why can't you just give up and surrender to your fate?"

"Because I intend to keep my promise."

Lucie sighed in defeat, suddenly unable to bear looking at the fallen angel. She tore away from Mulan's gaze in disgust and glared furiously at the concrete floor with her hands clenched into fists.

"Fine," Lucie spat, the words tumbling out in a hurried rush as if they tasted horribly bitter in her mouth. "Leave then. You've said what you've wanted to say, and now that you've so clearly made your decision, there is no need for me to keep you here against your will any longer. There is nothing I can say or do to convince you to see my perspective."

"And so we depart again, just as we did a century ago," Mulan declared, her voice hollowed with sorrow, "with neither of us gaining any more mutual understanding than last time. I suppose, at heart, this makes us both the silly girls we once were."

"Oh, it doesn't even matter to me anymore!" Lucie burst out in anger. "Go back to the Enclave just like you always have, and bring them this message: I know they are stockpiling weapons against us, but let me tell them that they won't even get through the door before meeting their demise."

"While that is a fair warning, Lucia, I'm afraid that it will not be delivered by my mouth, for I have no intention of returning to the Enclave. I'll be far away, doing what I have always done: sacrificing all I have for your sake, whether you desire it or not."

"But why?" Lucie asked in the whisper of a child long forgotten as she watched Mulan begin to disappear in a shimmering haze of light.

"Because that's what guardian angels do."

* * *

Two hours later, Lucie was still standing there, her mouth agape in a most unladylike fashion as her wide eyes continued to be trained on the spot where Mulan had vanished, as if the pull of her gaze would provide enough gravity to bring the angel back to her. She felt herself drifting, as she often did, along the raging current of her own disjointed thoughts, all of them swirling around her in a clamorous mesh of white noise. She felt strangely untethered from her own consciousness, as if she were having an out-of-body experience where she was looking down upon herself from a great height. It was like a cord had snapped, a single thread tying her to sanity, to hope, to love, to a blind belief that she could have everything she wanted with none of the consequences. She had been lying to herself all this time, and now, when faced with the prospect of continuing onward with anyone's love and support, she wondered if it really had been all a lost cause.

And it made her want to cry.

She was just about to when suddenly, she heard a pair of hurried footsteps stagger down the torch-lit steps leading to the crypt. Lucie looked up just in time to catch Scarlette, looking bruised and bloodied and half-dead, before she collapsed to the ground.

"Scarlette, what happened to you?" Lucie exclaimed, gently setting the woman into a comfortable resting position against the wall, where she labored heavily, her chest heaving with racking coughs, before she spoke.

"I am sorry," she rasped. "I failed my mission. Rebecca is—"

"Please, speak quietly," Lucie whispered. "We are nearing the 7:30 silent hour."

"Forgive me," Scarlette replied hastily, lowering her voice to the faintest whisper. "As I was saying, Rebecca is still alive, and she has the Elements of Hope and Light with her. They are powerful fighters, and armed with Lexonite, it was difficult for me to combat them, though I made a valiant effort."

"It is alright, Scarlette," Lucie reassured with a dignified regality as she once more wore the mask of leadership. "I would expect nothing less of a fighter forced to contend with large quantities of Lexonite, and the fact that you escaped with your life in of itself is remarkable."

"Should we prepare to launch an attack of retaliation on the Enclave?" Scarlette asked.

"No," Lucie demanded firmly. "You know that in order to ensure our success, we must fight here."

At once, a horrid idea occurred to Lucie, causing her lovely features to distort into ones of wicked malevolence. "Let them come," she said in a menacing drawl as she gestured to the plethora of coffins surrounding them. "After all, I bet all these lonely corpses would sure enjoy some new roommates."

* * *

Countryside of Palermo, Italy

"Thank you for meeting with me, Homura," Mulan said in detachment, her eyes still turned toward the dying embers of the setting sun, with the light reflecting upon her bronze wings in such a way that they looked to be consumed in flames.

"Of course, child. I would never refuse you," the little Japanese girl replied, coming to stand next to the glorious fallen angel.

Mulan snickered.

"What amuses you?" Homura demanded like a governess reprimanding a particularly unruly charge.

"Irony is truly a blessing in this world," Mulan replied with a spark of laughter. "In all the times I've relieved this century, never before have I seen you take the form of a child."

Annoyance flashing upon the young girl's face, she closed her eyes in concentration, and at once, where there was formerly a diminutive child, there now stood a proud and stately young woman. Her ivory black hair fluttered restlessly around her face, the strands reaching with long tendrils far past the small of her back as they twisted around the almost diaphanous black gown she wore, in sharp contrast with her skin that was pale as the glistening moonlight. But the feature that would capture one's attention first would be her eyes, the coal black irises slowly expanding and mercilessly eating away at the whites of her eyes until they were completely consumed by darkness. They seemed to drain away all surrounding light, as it seemed the sun immediately decided to make way for dusk with frightened haste. It were these cold, black slits that focused on the angel and scrutinized her intently.

"This place holds many memories for you," Homura whispered with a note of empathy.

Indeed it did. She had visited this place so many times, it becoming sort of bittersweet safehaven where she could pour out her heart in solitude, that she wouldn't have been surprised if the grand oak tree atop it had been nurtured through her tears alone. No matter what the reason, Mulan would always here at least once a year, seeking answers, solace, remembrance, something that would make the burden of her life easier to carry. It was funny, but sometimes she felt compelled to believe that all her problems could be solved by digging into the hill's very core and deciphering the secret message in its heart, a heart that throughout the centuries had become so intertwined with hers. It was like though the grand oak tree served as a private sentry, a confidant in whom she could beg for understanding, only to await an answer in vain.

Perhaps with a second immortal companion, this could change.

"Yes," Mulan sighed, addressing no one in particular. "Yes, it does."

Homura nodded in sympathy. "The curse of immortality is a heavy burden to bear."

"And yet a mortal life also comes with hardship. To walk around while thinking in the back of your mind that you are a mere wind-up doll that will eventually stop spinning, to know that you live and breathe on borrowed time, to go to sleep not knowing if your eyes will open to begin another day… I grieve for them as well."

"As befits your tender, compassionate soul," Homura remarked fondly before returning to business. "But enough of that. I did not come to edify you of the brevity of human life of which you are so eloquent, but rather the increasingly dire situation surrounding the figure known as Lucia Manette."

The mention of her name struck a nerve, but Mulan remained silent.

"You come from the past, as well as the future," Homura prodded. "You know of her fate, and by now, any sane being would deem it inescapable. So why do you continue to fight against the inevitable?"

"I… I've met her countless times," Mulan began, turning her head away to veil the emotions bubbling to the surface in the form of a warm trickle of tears. "And I've seen her suffer and fall away every time. I looked for a way to save her, a way to change fate. Trying again and again and again. I've tried to explain it to her, the sheer magnitude of what she means to me, but she doesn't understand. But I don't expect her to. I never do. Although I would love it, I would give anything to be surprised, just once. She views me as only a childhood guardian to be discarded along with the rest of her past that she'd rather forget. But for me… " At this, Mulan's voice was choked off by emotion, momentarily unable to continue.

"The more I repeated the circle," she resumed without a hitch, "the more our timelines drifted apart. Our feelings, too… and my words wouldn't reach her anymore. And although I started losing her, I… I think I was lost a long time ago.

"The most important thing to me is saving her. It always has been. She is and always has been the only thing left showing me the way. She is all I live for. If I give up, if I lose her, if I fail… I become nothing. I have to keep trying, keep believing there is a way, both for her and myself."

Wordlessly, Homura took out the swirling black and white orb from the Angelic Black Market.

"The reason I both love and hate you," Mulan stated bluntly in response to the cursed object.

"Don't shoot the messenger," Homura replied monotonously. "I know the reason you're here. You want me to make the Choice for them. I am sorry, but I will not force Lucia or Princess Alexandria's hand in this, as you are well aware. The choice is theirs, not mine."

"But you're a monster for even offering. They'd never accept if they knew what that thing really is. Even Lucie isn't that cruel."

"And yet the Choice is your only hope to save Lucia and escape this hopeless time loop you're in."

"But will they make the right choice?"

"Oh Mulan, you should know by now," Homura chided, her inky black eyes looking out to an even darker horizon.

"There isn't one."

* * *

**So much foreshadowing! And yes, I brought Homura back *cough* she's important! *cough*. Trust me, she'll be vital to the climax for Part 3 of this series, so while she won't have much to do in this story, keep her in the back of your minds. Honestly, while I know what I want to do with her, she's basically my wild card for those days when I want to say 'screw it; just let the world burn.' :D**

**Okay, so I know this was a shorter one, but trust me, Chapter 8, "To Die for the Cause," will more than make up for it. Here's a teaser trailer!**

**_"I decided to come because of you," Syrena replied. "That's the only reason why. I'm not going to have a repeat of what happened yesterday with Scarlette, where you were put in danger because of something I did. You're one of the only true friends I've ever had,_ _the__ only friend I have now, and I'm not going to lose you."_**

**_ "Still," Syrena continued, dropping her voice to a serious whisper. "I do wish you'd reconsider how you feel about this. I mean, do you really think this is the right thing to do?"_**

**_ "I…" In all the time Syrena had known Kerry, never before had she looked so lost and unsure of herself. And it was in this split second of realization that Syrena asked herself in silent horror:_**

** _Oh God, what is this horrid mission doing to us?_**

**_ "I… I just don't know anymore." _**

**Ciao for now!**

**Love to all,**

**Bella**


	9. To Die for the Cause (KS)

**I've become a beta-reader! Gosh, it's been long enough. Anyway, I'm taking a brief hiatus from writing this story (Don't worry: I've written four chapters ahead, so it won't interfere with my update system), so if anyone wants me to overlook a story, I'd be more than happy to do it. Just go to my profile page, and near the top, there should be a link that says Beta Profile, which should give you more information.**

**On with the story!**

* * *

Kerry nervously shuffled her feet as she stood outside Syrena's bedroom door, unsure as to whether or not she should enter. Rubbing her bare arms as a draft flooded the hallway from an ajar window, her eyes darted around the corridor, as if expecting someone to come and take her away at the last moment, thus prolonging this inevitable conversation a little longer. Finally, when it was made clear that this would not be the case, Kerry summoned up the courage to timidly knock thrice upon the wooden doorframe.

"Syrena?" she asked hesitantly. "Can I come in?"

A noncommittal grunt came from inside, which Kerry took to be as a yes. Turning the doorknob, she carefully cracked open the door, allowing her enough space to see into Syrena's room.

Well, technically, it was a room they shared together, occupied by both of them ever since coming to the Enclave four months ago. Kerry only thought of it as Syrena's since she was the one who spent the most time in it, with Kerry often seeking refuge in the library instead. Consequently, it reflected more of Syrena's personality than anything else. Plastered across nearly every blank inch of wall were a series of posters depicting iconic locations worldwide, ranging from the thick forests of the Amazon that teemed with an abundance of wildlife, to the frozen top of Mount Everest overlooking a radiant sunset. Each reflected her desire for adventure and exploration; she dreamed of doing things and going places no one could ever imagine.

Still, Kerry's own personal touches were not lost on the room. Every flat surface had been obscured by thick tomes, piled haphazardly on top of one another. Their contents ranged from advanced biology textbooks to a collection of Japanese haikus; Kerry had no real preference for one over the other. She would often spend hours at a time curled up in a beanbag in the corner with one of her books. It was her way of going places, just as Syrena desired, but in a much more comfortable and safe environment. Kerry often would sit there and marvel at how much weight and meaning a single sentence could contain. Some thought writing was a simplistic craft, but Kerry knew otherwise. Just like any other form of art, there was always a hidden undertone lying beneath the surface of the words on the page. They had to mesh, bring life, and somehow convey the indescribable into something as simple as words.

But unfortunately, Kerry was at a loss for comforting words as she focused on Syrena, hugging her knees to her chest as she sat on one of the two twin beds in the room. She had pulled back a small portion of the baby blue curtains to let a few golden droplets of noonday sunlight leak into the room; however, like water with oil, the sunshine seemed to avoid her touch, leaving her face vacant and melancholy, with shadows draped around her like a veil.

"Hey, are you okay?" Kerry asked, pushing the door wide enough for her to step inside and sit down on the bed next to Syrena. "You're not in pain, are you? I thought—"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," she snapped. "They used their science and all that to fix me."

"Then why are you so upset?"

"Well, isn't it obvious?" Syrena cried, still refusing to look at Kerry.

"Is this about Scarlette? Because don't worry, the Enclave is working on pinpointing her location right now so that she can be intercepted before she makes it back to the Conclave."

"No, that's not it either," Syrena said, her voice trembling. "It's… oh come on, Kerry, please don't make me say it," she begged as tears clung to her eyelashes like stars.

Thoroughly alarmed by this point, Kerry said, "I… I don't know what you're talking about, Syrena."

"Oh, Kerry, it's me!" she moaned in anguish, burying her face in her hands as the words tumbled in a rush from her mouth. "When Scarlette was about to kill you - really truly _kill _you – and it almost happened because I was just so, so stupid! How could I have risked your life like that? How could I have been so reckless? What if you hadn't had the bottle of Lexonite? I keep replaying that scene over and over in my head, imagining what would have happened if I had been just a second too slow, a second too late… You would have died, Kerry, and it would have been all my fault, and I… I… Argh!"

Syrena dug her sharp fingernails into the palms of her hands, creating rows of tiny half-moon marks. It was ironic how people resorted to physical pain to lessen the pain of emotions. Perhaps the reason why was because wounds of the body, while painful, could be fixed quite easily, because so many medical advancements had been made. With modern technology, you could heal a broken arm, a broken neck, a broken bone, but only a few gifted people in the world had the skill to mend a broken heart.

"Hey, Syrena," Kerry said comfortingly. "There there, it's alright." She wrapped an awkward arm around Syrena and nervously patted her on the back, all the while sneaking uncomfortable glances at Syrena's tear-streaked face. Kerry had never been good at consoling people, but fortunately for her, Syrena was always so tough and brazen that she never really needed it. Now, Kerry was at a loss to know what she could possibly say or do to make everything better.

"I never should have done it!" Syrena screamed in an outburst. "I mean, I'm always so reckless, always doing something that's questionable or dangerous. But it's never bothered me because I know that if it turns out for the worst, I'm the only one to blame, I'm the only one who gets hurt. But yesterday… I put you in danger, too. And… and…. losing you, Kerry, I… I can't think of anything more terrible."

"What's terrible is how much you're beating yourself up over this," Kerry said. "You made a mistake, but it turned out alright. I'm fine, you're fine, and everything's going to be okay. Please don't go around feeling guilty about this."

When Syrena didn't reply, Kerry sighed. "One day, when I was ten years old," she began, "I ran across the train tracks while the gates were down and almost got myself run over. I wasn't hurt, but for the next few weeks, I couldn't help but feel guilty about what happened. I tried so much not to think about it, to forget about it, but it kept coming back to haunt me. 'I should have been more patient,' I told myself, and a million other things as well. I kept thinking that if I just happened to trip or drop something on the way, I… I could have been killed. I had some much to live for; I couldn't bear the fact that I almost lost it all through my own stupidity. I was so used to being perfect that I couldn't stand the fact I made a mistake. I just felt terrible."

"So what did you do?" Syrena asked.

"Well, I had been avoiding that part of the street and had instead been taking the long way around," Kerry said. "But one day, I decided I had enough. So I went back to that part of the railroad where I had almost been run over, and for 15 minutes, when no one was around, I just kept crossing the tracks, back and forth, over and over again. All during that time, I kept thinking that I was going to be run over by the train, just like I'd been afraid of for the past weeks, but I wasn't. And when a train came by, I waited patiently behind the gates until it passed, exactly like how I was supposed to. And, I don't know, I felt better after that. I realized that you can't avoid mistakes in life. You're going to have regrets, do stupid things, and hurt other people in the process. But you can't let that stop you. You have to learn from your mistakes; that's why we make them. And if something like what happened yesterday occurs in life, when we have a run-in with Death but still survive, isn't that, in a way, a beautiful thing to learn? It means that we really do have a purpose in life, that we can't die now because we're meant for something greater."

"So, what are you saying?" asked Syrena. "That I should just wait for a chance to save you from Scarlette again to make myself feel better?"

"I suppose that'd be one way to atone, but for now, if it helps, I'm not angry with you," Kerry said comfortingly, brushing away a stray lock of auburn hair from her eyes. "I could never be. Syrena, you're almost like a sister to me, and it hurts me when you're melancholy like this. And if you're hurting me, then it's almost like you never saved me at all, and what you feared would happen actually came true by making it your central focus of reality. Just focus on what really happened and be grateful. I need you right now, Syrena. Everything's become so confusing, and you're the only one I can trust. I can't lose you like this. I need you to be strong for me, okay?"

Nodding, Syrena wiped the tears away from her now two sapphire eyes. "You're right. I'm sorry. And… thank you. For standing by me, that is. I don't think I could've asked for a better friend than you."

"Aww, it's alright," Kerry replied cheerfully as the two friends hugged each other like lifelines. "You know I'd never leave you, Syrena. You always make me happy."

"You're… glowing really brightly right now, you know that?" Syrena murmured dazedly, as if her mind was galaxies away from reality. She was blankly staring at Kerry, with her eyes shifting to a brilliant gold. Her mouth was hanging open in an expression of pure bliss and joy as she gazed upon an unseen nimbus of light. Kerry started backing away in alarm, unsure of what was going on. Then, just as quickly as the strange started, it stopped, leaving Syrena collapsed on the bed and panting heavily while her eyes returned to their normal azure hue.

"Okay," Kerry began slowly once her shock had abated enough to allow speech. "What the _hell _was that?"

"I-I have no idea," Syrena stammered as she arranged herself in a proper sitting position again, her mouth still suspended in the widest grin imaginable.

"But it happened before," Kerry pressed urgently. "When we were trying to find Scarlette, you did that same thing with your eyes again. Syrena, what happens to you when you go in that super-sayian mode?"

"I don't really know," Syrena replied. "Everything else stays the same, but the people I look at… they get strange auras. Some people glow really brightly, like you do, others very dimly, and others radiate darkness. And when I looked at you, I could instantly see and experience the emotions from every happy time you've spent with me."

"Do you…" Kerry began, choosing her words carefully as she scrutinized her friend intently. Her brow was furrowed, and her arms were crossed in front of her chest, a signal that she was in deep thought. "Do you think this has something to do with the fact that you're the Element of Light?"

"Maybe," Syrena answered, shrugging her shoulders. "I don't see why it would happen now, though. I mean, I've been the Element of Light since I was born, right? If this was linked to the element, why am I only experiencing it now?"

"I don't know, and that's what worries me," Kerry replied, standing up. "I'm going to talk to Rebecca about this. It could be a very serious issue."

"Well gee, thanks for including me," Syrena remarked sarcastically as she headed towards the door with Kerry. "I'm coming too, of course."

Kerry nodded her consent, and together, the two best friends made their way through the winding corridors of the Enclave headquarters until they came to a halt outside the central meeting room, where Rebecca was debriefing Daphne on last night's events.

"…they're developing their powers, Daphne," Rebecca said, her muffled voice wafting up through the crack between the door and the floor, and straight to Kerry and Syrena's ears, perked up with attention. "I've seen it. Syrena used hers to find Scarlette, while Kerry somehow managed to burn her hand upon direct physical contact with me."

"And there's something else that bothers me," Rebecca continued. "I encountered a young girl named Homura at the Place of Fallen Miracles. While I may have imagined it, I fear… I fear that girl was being possessed somehow, by an ancient spirit of untold power."

"Well, I'll just send out a team to find and dispatch her," Daphne replied calmly.

"It's not just that," Rebecca said while outside, Kerry and Syrena were hanging onto every word with rapt attention. "She spoke of Jezebel, the original Element of Love, and how she intended to end the conflict between the Enclave and the Conclave. Then, she showed me a Soul Orb."

"She's taken a person's soul?" Daphne exclaimed in horror.

"I don't know what to think anymore," Rebecca sighed. "All I know is that she's a potential threat, and that we constantly have to be on our guard for her."

"Agreed. We won't inform the Elements about this, if you agree, that is."

"Of course," Rebecca said without hesitation. "It's for their own best interests, after all. Don't worry, I'll make sure they never know."

Through a few covert glances, Kerry and Syrena decided they had heard enough, and so Kerry started politely knocking at the door, causing the two voices inside to immediately fall silent.

"Kerry, Syrena, perfect timing!" Rebecca remarked cheerfully with an overly fake smile as she bounced across the room to give them both a motherly hug. The two teenage girls returned the gesture, both doing their best not to convey their upset feelings to the emotionally perceptive fallen angel.

"We've just received the results after analyzing the medallion you found," Daphne said, subtlety chastising Rebecca and reminding her this was a serious matter of importance. "It turns out embedded inside is a tracking device that Lucia uses to monitor the location of all her followers worldwide through the use of blood samples to attract the device to a specific person's DNA. We've managed to hack into the microchip's database and have discovered that Scarlette is currently in London, where we assume the Conclave's headquarters is located."

"On behalf of the Enclave, I cannot thank you enough for this information," Daphne continued, her tone grateful and sincere. "For decades we've attempted to locate the Conclave headquarters but have never succeeded. Now, we are finally able stop the Conclave of Lexicon from seizing total control over Earth. You nearly risked your lives for this, and for that, I thank you.

"Now, can I ask one thing more of you? One more act of bravery? There is a private jet taking the first scout team to London in just under an hour, with the rest of the Enclave's military forces flying in shortly after. As the Elements of Hope and Light, your efforts would prove invaluable to the mission."

Upon noticing Kerry and Syrena's hesitant faces, Rebecca added quickly, "It's not going to be like yesterday," she said, her eyes pained with worry for the two girls. "You'll be going with me, Daphne, and over one hundred other Enclave members, all who promise to keep you safe."

"Why are you even bothering asking us at all?" Syrena demanded aggressively. "Because of that blood oath thing, we have to do whatever you want."

Daphne sighed in exasperation as she realigned her affronted expression into one of unperturbed serenity. "I don't want to force you to do anything," said Daphne calmly and evenly. "That was merely a precaution, something to ensure your loyalty, not something to take away your free will in an act of tyranny. I understand the hardships you have endured already because of me, and I know it would be more harm than help to burden you with a load you could not carry. I would not blame you for declining, but the choice is yours."

After a long, meditative pause, Kerry sighed before standing erect and declaring with firm resolve, "This isn't just about us anymore. Lucia is going to destroy the entire world if she isn't stopped. If we don't do something, the whole world is in danger. Our friends, our family, Jenny… everyone we care about and the people others care about could all be lost if we sit on the sidelines. It may be hard for us, but we can't think about ourselves. We can't afford to be selfish. We have look past ourselves and be strong for the people that need us most."

"So what are you saying?" Daphne asked.

"Oh, she's too formal, with her big, fancy words and all," Syrena butted in. Her eyes were alight with a strange, burning fire, one that had nothing to do with magic or miracles, but with something much more mundane and simpler. It didn't mean success, and in the eyes of most people, it would seem quite useless, yet it was all the more profound because of this:

A will to fight.

"We're going in."

* * *

"Aww, I thought we'd be going_ to_ London, not _under_ it," Syrena complained, although with a bit of teasing playfulness in her voice. "It would've given me a chance to try out my British accent. 'Hullo, tis a lovely day, is it not?'" she trilled in an over-exaggerated inflection.

Kerry, just a few paces ahead, rolled her eyes. "No one uses 'tis' anymore, not even in England," she reminded as she crouched down to prevent her head from scraping against a particularly low portion of the tunnels. "You've been watching too many _Harry Potter _movies."

"But everything you see in movies is true," Syrena declared with serious affirmation.

"And where did you hear that?" Kerry asked, smiling smugly, for she already knew the answer.

"NASA," Syrena replied simply, as if it were obvious.

"Exactly—Wait, what?"

But Syrena just flashed a trickster wink before skipping ahead to the front of the procession, where Daphne marched proudly like the prow of a great ship. In her open hand, palm facing up, was Scarlette's fallen medallion, which was currently emitting rapid, pulsing flashes of red light that glowed an even deeper shade of crimson with each advancing step. For the past few hours, the tiny mechanism had been serving as their compass, guiding them down winding passageways, choosing the correct route at forks in the road, and drawing them ever closer to the Conclave of Lexion, to Lucia, the cause of it all.

"Um, excuse me, Miss Daphne," Syrena began awkwardly, still bashful in the presence of the former archangel. "I was just wondering what you'd like Kerry and I to do exactly once we reach the Conclave. You glossed over that a bit when we were in Japan, and we're both still confused."

"Oh of course, forgive me," Daphne replied, and at once, she took out a reel of glowing red bullets. "They're made of 100% pure, refined Lexonite," she explained while she loaded Syrena's gun (after the traumatic events of yesterday, both had found it prudent to switch weapons). "Our basic plan of attack is this: Three regiments will go before you to swarm the base and take the initial waves of Conclavian resistance. Then you'll be going in with me and twenty of my most advanced fighters. The rest of the troops will follow shortly afterward, and we also have ten backup squads ready to be called in as reinforcements. Your target is very simple. Don't worry about fighting anyone else; you'll be going straight for Lucia."

"To do what?" Syrena asked.

Daphne looked surprised. "Why, you'll kill her, of course," she said impatiently, as if instructing a small, bothersome child.

"What?" Syrena exclaimed, her mind reeling. The statement came as a surprise to her, but then again, it should have been obvious from the start. Every single Enclave member, including herself and Kerry, was decked in full suits of golden armor and loaded with a heavy battery of various assortments of weapons, ranging from simplistic bludgeons and rapiers to modern-day hand grenades and M-16s. This battle-ready demeanor did not exactly scream marching in to negotiate a peace treaty.

Still, a large part of Syrena's mind had been trying to delude her into believing it was true. Despite the horrendous things Lucia and the Conclave of Lexicon was planning, Syrena held no personal ill will towards them. Besides, would she even have the guts to do it, to pull the trigger and kill a person in cold blood?

"Syrena, you don't fully understand the extent of what Lucia is planning," Daphne said. "She's already gained control of nearly all supreme political powers in the world by taking over the minds of their major leaders through one of their scientific procedures, commonly known as Assimilation. She's going to force all the countries to declare brutal wars against each other, in which millions will die. Once all military powers are sufficiently decimated, she and the Conclave will take over all of Planet Earth. She needs to be killed, before it's too late."

Syrena opened her mouth and was about to protest before thinking wiser of it. Bowing her head in submission, she sighed and nodded in acceptance. Then, with Daphne's polite dismissal, Syrena immediately headed to the back of the procession to relay this revelation to Kerry.

"Darn, I can't get any reception in these tunnels," Kerry complained to Rebecca as she was fiddling around with her iPod nano. "I thought that I could at least listen to the radio while we're walking."

"Kerry, I have something really important to tell you," Syrena said.

"Hey, I can hear a bit of a song through the static," Rebecca exclaimed as she pushed the earbud deeper. "'_When you're ready, come and get it, na na na na.'"_

"Kerry," Syrena demanded insistently when she didn't reply.

"You… you listen to Selena Gomez?" Kerry said, dumbstruck, still not paying any attention to Syrena.

"Kerry!"

"Well yeah," Rebecca replied, nonchalant. "What, did you think all angels just play harps and listen to church hymns?"

"Daphne wants us to kill Lucia!" Syrena exclaimed, disregarding any semblance of a preamble.

"What?" Kerry said in shock, turning toward Syrena, still reeling from the discovery that angels liked pop music. "We're going to kill Lucia?"

"I know, right?" Syrena began excitedly, glad that someone else shared her opinion on the matter. "I couldn't believe it either."

"Well, it is rather unexpected," Kerry said, the gears in her mind already churning in thought. "Although I suppose we can still make it work. I think it's best if I serve as the distraction, while you sneak up from behind. Make sure your aim's right; with her super speed, you'll probably only get one chance. I'm no expert, but I'd say aim for the back of the chest of neck, since that's where the major arteries are—"

"Wait, what?" Syrena demanded in outrage. "What are you talking about? We're not going to _kill _Lucia!"

"Look, Syrena, Lucia's doing horrendous things," Kerry explained testily. "She's going to bring about the end of the human race as we know it if we don't stop her. I know it's not something either of us want to do ideally, but it's the only possible way."

"But can't we just find some way to stop this Assimilation project everyone's taking about and leave Lucia and the Conclave of Lexicon alive?" Syrena pleaded. "Despite what she plans on doing, she hasn't killed anyone yet, right? If we can just break down the Conclave of Lexicon enough that there's no chance of recovery, then Lucia won't be much of a threat anymore."

"She'll be a threat as long as she lives," Kerry replied wearily. "According to Rebecca, she's been working at this for centuries. She'll never give up, and if we don't end it now, we'll be stuck in an endless cycle of breaking her down only to allow her enough time to rebuild again."

"But this isn't right," Syrena protested. "We're the Symbols of Beauty. We represent life, we can't do this—"

"Right now, as we speak, there are Conclavians tracking Jenny, waiting for an opportunity to hurt her or capture her or worse," Kerry exclaimed angrily. "We have to do this, if not for the sake of the world, to save a friend you and I both know should never be forced to have any part in this war."

"You and I both know that the Jenny we know would never allow us to take a person's life for her sake," Syrena reminded Kerry softly, her words carrying more weight than if she'd screamed them. Kerry looked away in guilt but still firm in her resolve, or was that just her pride talking?

"It sounds to me like you're being a little too idealistic, Syrena," Rebecca chided gently.

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

"I just mean that you sometimes… expect too much out of people," Rebecca said as she placed a comforting hand on Syrena's shoulder. "You always try to see the best in people, which is commendable; after all, seeing the light of people's goodness and being able to replicate it is one of the inspiring traits that make you the Element of Light. But then, I've noticed you start making definite rules about what is moral and what isn't, and you form a certain standard that you expect all people to abide by. And when they don't live up to your expectations, that upsets you."

"She has a point," Kerry added. "Remember when Rosalie first betrayed us? You took it so hard upon yourself, like it was your fault that she left, and what she did was unforgivable, no matter what motivations justified that."

"Not everything is black and white in this world," the fallen angel continued. "There are murky spots of grey where morals have to be twisted in order to do what's best. Sadly, this is one of those times, and we just have to learn to accept them. Do you understand what I'm saying, Syrena?"

"If I told you yes, would you believe me?" Syrena retorted irritably.

"I didn't think so," Rebecca said in defeat, drawing out a long, exasperated sigh. "Perhaps I can't convince you to see our way of thinking, but let me tell you that every single person here is prepared to die for this cause. Forgive me for being cruel, but if you are not as dedicated, then it is better if you stay behind until the survivors can return after the battle to fetch you. It is better to have an honest coward than a reckless liar in our ranks, Syrena."

Rebecca's words sent a gust of chilling wind coursing through her body, thoroughly numbing her senses. Her once confident steps fumbled, leaving her standing forlornly off to the side of the tunnel while other fallen angels passed her by until only Rebecca and Kerry remained.

"Kerry?" Syrena pleaded desperately, even though the defeated, imploring look in her eyes was answer enough. Syrena sighed. Whenever it came to Kerry, the choice was already made.

Squeezing her eyes shut, as if it would lessen the wretched feelings accompanying her actions, Syrena ran to catch up to Kerry. She and Rebecca clearly expressed signs of relief at Syrena's compliance, while Syrena trudged behind unhappily. Guilt and uneasiness weighed down upon her like cinder blocks, slowing her every step and making even the smallest of movements require herculean strength. Her breath caught tight in her lungs, her back was hunched over from pain, and it even felt like two bricks had been placed at the corners of her mouth, tugging it into a permanent frown. To Syrena, it felt that in that tiny action, she had somehow managed to betray a vital part of who she was, had lost something that could never be regained. Where her strength of willpower had once seemed unbreakable, it now felt as broken and fragile as a spindly twig. As much as Syrena liked to believe in her independent nature, she had just proved that at heart, she just didn't want to be alone.

"Syrena?" Kerry asked timidly. She had turned around to join her best friend's side, and was now summoning up the courage to speak. "Thank you. For what you did, I mean. I know it couldn't have been easy for you not to listen to what you believe is right for once."

"I decided to come because of you," Syrena replied. "That's the only reason why. I'm not going to have a repeat of what happened yesterday with Scarlette, where you were put in danger because of something I did. You're one of the only true friends I've ever had, _the _only friend I have now, and I'm not going to lose you."

"Still," Syrena continued, dropping her voice to a serious whisper. "I do wish you'd reconsider how you feel about this. I mean, do you really think this is the right thing to do?"

"I…" In all the time Syrena had known Kerry, never before had she looked so lost and unsure of herself. And it was in this split second of realization that Syrena asked herself in silent horror:

_Oh God, what is this horrid mission doing to us?_

"I… I just don't know anymore."

* * *

"Halt!" cried a sudden voice from the front of the procession. At once, all the fallen angels heeded the order and stood at full attention. Their faces were hardened into the cold, steely concentration that preluded battle, every muscle in their bodies tensed like coils preparing to spring into action, and Kerry and Syrena could practically hear the breathless anticipation careening off the tunnel walls, now as silent as the grave in the absence of heavy footfalls and lighthearted chatter. Some of the front-most ranks drew their weapons, no trace of fear present in those eyes, blazing with the tempestuous fire of bravery that threatened to melt the very souls of lesser beings, and it seemed as if their very lives of hardship had been naught but meaningless preparation leading up to this pinnacle moment as they turned to face their greatest enemy…

"A door?" Syrena demanded in disbelief once she, Kerry, and Rebecca had jostled their way to the front to better view the present situation. "_That's_ the big holdup?"

"It's not just that," Daphne remarked, gesturing to the silver medallion, which was currently emitting fiery sparks of light and vibrating wildly in her hand. "The silver medallion is reacting strongly to our current location. It is in all likelihood that Scarlette and the Conclave of Lexicon is just behind that door."

Kerry gulped, at once backing away from the door and regarding it with a wary eye, as if it were some fearsome beast that was ready to pounce when provoked even the slightest. "Okay," she said, her voice shaky. "So who's going to take the first step?"

Disregarding their formerly stoic expressions, the members of the Enclave now turned their heads to regard their neighbors worriedly, wondering who would have the courage to volunteer. When faced with the proposition of battle as before, they were without fear, for such was their element of familiarity, and they knew all too well what to expect. But how did one begin to prepare for the unknown? Even Daphne, who up until this point had maintained her mask of composure flawlessly, broke character, her soft blue eyes probing her army and sending out a silent plea for someone, _any_one, to step forward.

Finally, out of all of them, it turned out to be Rebecca. Stepping forward from the crowd, she stood alone in her bravery, head held high, jaw clenched in resolve, a Japanese _kanajal _clasped at her side, and her eyes aglow not with fire, but with a hard, cold confidence that could stare down any adversary. These were her weapons, both for battle as well as her honor, as she declared in a firm voice that rang clearly throughout the caverns with its chords of hidden strength that Kerry and Syrena never knew until now, "I will. I volunteer as tribute."

It felt like a gauntlet was resounding after the last word was spoken, and all present kept a respectful silence, the situation too gave for any of them to make the joke.

"No, I can't let you do that," Daphne remarked gently. "I'll go, really, it's fine."

"I can do it," Rebecca said irritably, sounding like a complaining child.

"You're too inexperienced—"

"I am not a child—"

"318 years on Earth is practically infancy—"

"Need I remind you that we were all created at the _exact same time_—?"

"Okay, this is getting ridiculous. Does anyone have a coin we can flip?"

"Enough already!" Syrena cried. "Seriously, I'll just go. My God, if this the way adults — immortal, angelic adults, I might add — choose to behave…"

Before anyone could protest, Syrena was already at the door, and pointing her gun with a trained eye, she shot the lock twice, causing it to swing open ever so little, revealing a crack of darkness beyond.

"Wait up!" Kerry exclaimed, joining Syrena by the worn, wooden door with the now bent iron bolt. "I'm coming with you."

Knowing it would be no use to argue, Syrena quickly agreed. "All right, but stay behind me."

Unable to resist referencing nearly every possible cliché action movie, Syrena dramatically kicked down the door before scurrying inside and waving her gun to and fro while shouting, "Come out with your hands up!"

However, there were no enemies to be found here. From the looks of it, Kerry and Syrena were in some sort of basement, filled with staggering towers of crates. Judging by the smell of dust, mold, and a peculiar odor that Kerry found to be akin to incense wafting about aimlessly in the stale, stagnant air, no one had probably ventured down here in years. To add to the deserted and derelict ambiance of the basement, all was silent as the grave, save for the distant sounds of bells and organ playing somewhere far above them in London.

"Hey, that kind of sounds like _Amazing Grace_," Kerry remarked about the music with nostalgia, for it had just occurred to her that she hadn't attended Church at all since arriving at the Enclave. It was funny, remembering all the times she had prayed for little things, like passing a particularly challenging exam or recovering from a bout of fever before school on Monday. How inconsequential, how meaningless those problems seemed now, when she was faced with a set of trials that would put her very life on the line.

"Come on, Kerry, there's no one here," Syrena said, pulling Kerry out of her reverie.

Still, in an attempt to be thorough in their search, Kerry and Syrena looked behind every stack of crates for any possible ambushers. Finally, when it was apparent that every feasible threat of danger was nonexistent, Kerry turned to give the Enclave the thumbs up.

"Well, that was anticlimactic," Kerry remarked to herself before addressing the crowd before her. "It's all clear, everyone. You can come through now."

"Finally," Rebecca sighed in relief, giving Kerry one of those small, serene smiles that made Kerry feel like the two of them shared a private and very special joke together, just before she stepped through the doorframe to join them. "Honestly, Daphne enjoys overreacting too much. Now, did you two see if there's a door at the other end or someth—"

Rebecca was cut off mid-sentence by Kerry's scream. Well, not really. She was cut off by something much worse, something that made Kerry back away in horror, her eyes wide with terror as she screamed and screamed, as if screaming would somehow be enough to wake her up from this horrible nightmare, for the scene presented before her, despite what her senses and logic and reason might say, could not possibly be reality. Still, she would be a fool to deny the concrete proof that was right before her very eyes.

Rebecca had just burst into a pillar of flame.

* * *

**I think I enjoyed writing that last line a bit too much. :D Oh, how I've missed my cliffhangers!**

**In other, personal news, this evening, some of my relatives from Canada are coming to stay with us for a few days. I think it's time for a little math here! 3 guests + 2 bedrooms + 1 spare bed in my room = 0 personal space. :P Oh, and this weekend, you would not believe how much cleaning we did around the house. Seriously, you'd think the Queen of England was coming over. My mom even gave us all matching bedsheets. Matching. Bedsheets. *sigh***

**Still, I'm also excited to see them, because I haven't seen them in years. I'm also interested to meet this younger cousin who, by the looks of my closet, is destined to receive 2/3 of my inheritance in the form of used clothes. As long as I'm not delegated to tour guide or babysitter, perhaps I'll survive.**

**Okay, I think that's enough rambling for today. See you all next Wednesday!**

**Love to all,**

**Bella**


	10. To Live for Yourself (J)

**Hello everyone! Yes, I know, I know, it's Monday, two days earlier than my regular update day. What is the purpose of this, you may ask? Well, the reason is that I have a message that I would like to be delivered to one of my account-less reviewers as soon as possible:**

**To TLM/TheLivingMe/FluffyKitten:**

**So, I saw you mention in your review of Chapter 8 that you're having trouble posting comments on the WordGirl wiki. The reason is because due to revisions in COPPA (Children's Online Privacy Protection Act), anonymous editing and commenting on the wiki, as well as many websites targeted to or involving material directed to young children, has been permanently disabled. From now on, you will need an actual account to post comments. KerrytheBrony has made a blog detailing more information about it, with a link to a blogspot she created for us. Actually, Kerry did threaten (and then revoke) to leave the wiki unless you came back. So yeah, we really kinda need you. :D If you could make an account, either on FanFiction or the wiki, we'd really appreciate it, so I don't have to spam my fanfic searching for you. :P**

**Now that that's out of the way, on with the stor- Ooh, wait, props to my godfather beta-reader for editing this 6,000 word monster. *virtual hug* You are amazing beyond belief! Thank you!**

* * *

"Sorry about that," Nicole apologized in a hushed voice to Jenny as they piled out of the convertible, just out of Tess's earshot. "Tess _really_ likes One Direction for some reason."

"It's okay," Jenny smiled, meanwhile trying to get the 13th round of "What Makes You Beautiful," that had played during the entire car ride, out of her head. _Never again…_

After inserting some coins into the parking meter, the three girls walked about four blocks down 1st Avenue until they reached the nightclub.

From the outside, Temptation Paradise fit in well with the surrounding, derelict buildings, with its partially burnt out neon sign, grimy windows on the second floor, and a few posters depicting some rather questionable topics.

This only succeeded in making Jenny even more uncomfortable with the present situation than before. She nervously tugged on the jean miniskirt Nicole had loaned her, trying in vain to make the hem reach even halfway past her thigh, and on Tess's flimsy yellow tank top, which she thought felt practically see-through and revealed a little too much of her midriff, especially since it was winter and only 45 degrees outside. The only article of clothing that Jenny felt remotely comfortable in were her battered pair of sneakers, which she had fortunately been allowed to keep.

However, Jenny's outfit didn't hold a candle to what Nicole and Tess were wearing. Both of them had gone all out in their appearance, with Nicole donning a heavily sequined top and skirt that looked more like a bikini than anything else. It was entirely lined with golden threads that swished to and fro when she walked, and seven-inch high heels to match Tess'. (The fact that neither had stumbled once in those high heels confirmed without a doubt to Jenny that they were training to be world-class tightrope walkers.) Meanwhile, Tess was dressed in an elegant gown of midnight black, complete with a low-dipping V-neck and several strategically placed creases that accentuated her natural curves. Strands of pearls dangled from her earrings and tied her lavender hair into an elegant chignon, making the ensemble sophisticated and seductive all at once.

"You okay, hon?" Nicole asked as she smeared what Jenny thought was the tenth coat of ruby red lipstick on her lips, either making them look especially pouty or like she had just torn open a live animal's intestines with her mouth.

"Yeah, I'm just a bit nervous, that's all. I mean, I don't usually hang around places like this."

"You know, you can always wait in the car until we come out," Tess reminded her as she glanced at Jenny concernedly. "It'll only take us a few minutes, and then we can take you home."

"No, that's okay," Jenny replied quickly. "I don't want to ruin your afternoon. I'll be fine."

"Awesome," Nicole commented pleasantly, brushing the whole affair behind her, and before Jenny knew what was happening, she was being led through the doors of the nightclub. In one last bout of uncertainty, Jenny looked over her shoulder at the busy Denver street, so normal, such an accurate representation of the life she had always known, a life that was just about to slip away…

Jenny shook her head, trying to rid herself of these irrational thoughts. It wasn't like going to a nightclub would completely change her life. And besides, even if it did, what was so special about the life she lived? What was worth preserving? Turning her gaze away, Jenny followed Nicole and Tess through the open door…

And found herself in a completely different world.

Or at least, that's what it felt like when Jenny caught her first glimpse of the inside of Temptation Paradise. Surely, its outer dilapidated appearance must have been a cleverly implemented façade to deflect attention, for this place was nothing at all like the run-down bar Jenny had been expecting. From the spotless marble tiles that could serve as mirrors, to the tables that were so white they glowed like moonlight, the club was well-kept to an almost unnatural degree of perfection. Jenny's eyes darted from the gaudy stage lined with metal poles (which were fortunately not in use), to the freshly polished dancefloor, and to the bar, which Nicole and Tess were currently heading towards.

Getting back into gear, Jenny nearly tripped over herself in her haste to not fall behind the two sisters. "Hey," Jenny said, an idea suddenly coming to her. "Why wasn't there anyone at the door to ask for our ID's? Don't we have to be 18 to come here?"

Nicole and Tess looked at each other in brief surprise before bursting into laughter. "Oh, we were right to bring you along, Jenny!" Nicole exclaimed giddily in between laughs.

"No one here ever asks for an ID," Tess explained in reply to Jenny's perplexed expression. "Practically everything here is illegal, darling. But not in a bad way," she added when Jenny's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Besides, isn't it good to break the rules now and again?"

Jenny had no honest reply to that questions, so she simply clamped her mouth shut as they proceeded forward. As they walked, Jenny noticed that the two sisters walked like runway models, their hips swaying to the beat of the music playing throughout the nightclub. From what Jenny could tell, it was a nightcore remix of a song that she had never heard in her life but was fairly sure her mother would forbid from its number of obscene words in the lyrics, none of which were censored.

Temptation Paradise wasn't that crowded at the moment, seeing as it was only 4:30 in the afternoon on a school day, but those that weren't completely intoxicated (and even some that were) greeted Nicole and Tess as they passed by, as if the two London transfer students were regulars at the club instead of foreign newcomers. And apparently, to Jenny's surprise, this familiarity was replicated.

"Hey Valerie!" Nicole shouted excitedly to the bartender, who was in the middle of wiping down the counter. At the sound of her name, she looked up, first in confusion and then in glee as she recognized Nicole and Tess.

"Girls!" Valerie squealed unabashed like a schoolgirl as she hugged the two sisters from across the counter. "You've finally decided to come to America! Has it lived up to your expectations so far?"

"Not nearly all of them," Tess said truthfully. "But fortunately, we found ourselves a golden exception." The two sisters gracefully parted to the side so that Jenny was on full display for Valerie. They gestured to Jenny with such silly, emphatic flourishes that Jenny was half-expecting a fanfare of trumpets to herald her royal arrival.

"Valerie, meet Jenny Swan," Nicole announced proudly, like she was showcasing a valuable antique vase for auction or a prized farm animal for the county fair. "She's a real gem, isn't she?"

For some reason, Jenny thought that remark held a little more weight than expected, but she pushed it aside on account of being courteous. Jenny outstretched her hand for a polite shake, which Valerie returned just a bit too amiably to be considered normal. Her skin, as Jenny did not fail to notice, was ice cold, and paler than even Tess's sickly complexion.

"Really?" Valerie said in a sultry tone, hinting at something Jenny couldn't make head nor tail of. "Well then, it's a pleasure to meet you, Jenny," Valerie said, before casting an approving glance at Jenny's apparel. "You look simply adorable, babydoll."

Jenny couldn't quite tell whether or not that was intended to be an insult. Well, judging by Valerie's dangerously low red cocktail dress, ivory black hair twisted into a high chignon that was just messy enough to be seductive, the black 9-point star tattooed on her neck, the smoky eyeliner accentuating her abnormally green eyes, her sultry tones, and the patronizing voice she used when talking to Jenny, she considered it a definite insult.

"Now, we all have a lot to catch up on, so why don't we do it over some drinks?" Valerie said playfully as she pulled out a tray of empty shot glasses. "What can I fix you girls for?"

"I'll take a Crown Royale,"Nicole said.

"I'll have a pinot noir," Tess added.

It surprised Jenny to find out how at ease they were at ordering alcoholic beverages when underage, and it was even more surprising to see them both take a swig of whiskey without so much as a dollar in sight. Jenny didn't know much about alcohol, but judging by how Valerie poured both drinks from a crystal decanter, they weren't exactly cheap.

"Wait, aren't you supposed to pay for those?" Jenny demanded bossily, which she at once regretted, hoping that she hadn't come off as a Goody Two-Shoes.

"No need to worry about money here, babydoll," Valerie said, once again calling Jenny that annoying pet name as if she were a child. "No charge for the Conclavians. By the way," she added, this time speaking to Nicole and Tess, "send my regards to the Lady, won't you?"

Nicole and Tess nodded as if they understood Valerie's insanity, which only succeeded in confusing Jenny all the more. "Huh? What do you mean?"

Valerie's expressions changed like a traffic light, starting on confusion while Nicole and Tess stopped mid-word in alarm, their glasses hanging suspended as they waited with bated breath; slowing down as she put the pieces together as the sisters started casting nervous side glances; and started up again with laughter, which made the sisters freeze in horror.

"Haha!" Valerie laughed, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes and clinging to the counter for support. "You really haven't told her anything, have you?"

Nicole's eyes started shooting daggers while Tess' pointed glare said loud and clear, _Yes, and we intend to keep it that way._

Valerie heard the message, and despite looking a few years older than Nicole and Tess, she tilted her head in a slight bow of submission, communicating all too well who was the superior. "It's nothing, darling," Valerie said placatingly to Jenny. "Just a private joke among old friends. Now, what can I get you?"

Jenny knew a lie when she saw one, but she pushed aside her confusion, knowing she wouldn't get any answers now, but made a mental note to bring it up later. "I'll have a kiddie cocktail," she said happily, thinking of all the times she had had the tangy combination of Sprite and cherry juice with Addison and Lisa.

This only made Valerie and some of the nearby patrons collapse into laughter once more. "Oh my God," Valerie cried between heaving breaths of laughter. "I can see why you two hang out with her! You're too cute, babydoll!"

Nicole and Tess gave Valerie a disapproving glare before moving protectively to Jenny's side. Jenny felt like two firecrackers had erupted in her flaming red cheeks, and she bent her head to make a curtain of hair shield her face so no one could see her silent tears of embarrassment.

"Jenny, darling," Tess crooned softly in Jenny's ear. "She wants you to order something alcoholic."

"Valerie, that's fine," Nicole said firmly. "I don't think Jenny's thirsty. Come on girls, let's find a table."

"Are you _sure_?" Valerie challenged, a deceptive gleam flashing in her eyes. "Because I poured a margarita just for you, free of charge, babydoll."

That was pushing it just a bit too far. Fists clenched, Jenny was just about to turn around and introduce Valerie to the pavement before Tess grabbed her wrist and held her back. "Don't listen to her," Tess said out of the corner of her mouth. "She's just trying to get a rise. It's fine, it's fine, no one's going to think any less of you."

But Jenny knew that wasn't true. Her eyes shifted restlessly back and forth between the sisters and Valerie, between her sensibility and her pride. Jenny bit her lip, her mind careening back and forth to Valerie's smug grin and Nicole and Tess, who were speaking to each other in hushed, concerned whispers, just loud enough for Jenny to snatch bits and pieces of phrases.

"I knew it was a bad idea for us to bring her here, Tess…"

"…can't expect her to know how to behave…"

"…I mean really, it's just a margarita…"

"Honestly, Nicole, she's just a child…"

And honestly, Jenny was fed up with all of it. There was Valerie, calling her 'babydoll' and teasing her about not have the gall to be a proper adult, and then there were Nicole and Tess, fretting over her safety like mothers over a newborn. She was tired of having everyone talk down to her, of believing she was stupid, of saying that she couldn't think for herself and had to be constantly guided by someone 'wiser' with 'experience'. Well, she could make her own choices, consequences be damned.

Ignoring Nicole and Tess's protests, Jenny marched straight up to bar once again, where Valerie curled her mouth into a sneer, half mocking and half challenging.

"Thank you, Valerie," Jenny said forcefully as she grabbed the margarita.

This time, Valerie's smile was one of genuine approval. "You're very welcome, Jenny."

* * *

"What's wrong, girl?" Tess asked jovially, her smiling face flushed with beads of sweat as her fifth shot glass dangled haphazardly in her loose grip. It was far into the evening now, and as its name implied, the nightclub was now in full swing, complete with a multitude of flashing colored lights, a DJ, and a sea of bodies swaying tipsily on the dancefloor. It had been nearly an hour since Jenny had last seen Nicole or Tess, when Nicole had playfully dragged Tess into the crowd, they too become infected with that lovely aura of freedom and giddiness that thrived off the wild energy of partying crowds.

But Jenny had been immune to the fever, and so she had been sitting melancholy on one of the side tables that she had made her own private island for the evening, and was currently entertaining herself by staring glumly into the dregs of her third margarita.

This was how Tess – hair tangled, panting for breath, and looking like she was having the time of her life – found Jenny when she stumbled clumsily into the seat next to her. "Are you okay?" she asked with a genuine, sober concern. "You look really messed up. Jenny, if you're feeling sick, we can take you home now if you want; Nicole's only had two, and that girl can really hold her liquor—"

"No, it's not that," Jenny interrupted with a sigh. "It's just… I don't even know anymore. It just makes me sad to see all these people happy when I'm not."

Jenny's sad eyes looked out to the crowd, where little clone waitresses, all in the exact same strapless crimson cocktail dresses and matching hair styles, weaved in and out of the tables and served refreshments. Jenny stopped one of them and took another glass of margarita, trying to drown her sorrows in alcohol, except all of them managed to get life jackets and float to the surface of her mind.

Tess studied Jenny's face with such an intense scrutiny that Jenny wouldn't have been surprised if she was peering into the very depths of her soul. "You've been depressed for a long time, haven't you?"

Jenny nodded. It may have only been four months, but it felt like an eternity. "Tess, how do you do it?" Jenny asked in desperation, tears in her eyes. "I mean, forgive me for being brusque, but you've endured so much in your life already. When you walk into a surgery, you never quite know how you'll come out, do you? How… how do you go on? What keeps you from just ending it all?"

"Well," Tess began thoughtfully, "I just live for the present. I don't think about what will happen tomorrow, but instead I try my hardest to be as happy as I can with what time I've been given.

"Also, I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not very sociable at all. I've never dated, never formed a longstanding friendship except for Nicole, because I don't want to become a burden for other people. Despite what my doctors may say, this heart condition I have won't help me achieve a ripe, full age. Being friends with me… it would be like handing someone a corpse with a time bomb strapped to her chest. Nicole knows this, and we've agreed that when things start going for the worst, we'll immediate begin to estrange ourselves. That's why I try to live for myself, so that when I die, it'll just be me that's lost, and not the fragments of other people's souls.

"I… I don't know if that's the answer you wanted me to say," Tess concluded after a while, her voice quivering through her tears. "The wine, it makes me say things I wouldn't normally say…"

"Shh, it's okay," Jenny said, her eyes widening with compassion. In a comforting gesture, she drew Tess' head into the crook of her neck, where she muffled her sorrow that was more screams than tears. Jenny absentmindedly stroked Tess's pretty lavender hair while she stared off into the deep abyss of space that was her thoughts.

'_That's why I try to live for myself…'_

In all honesty, it made sense. Since when had other people ever helped Jenny? Her parents didn't believe in her dreams, Kerry and Syrena had abandoned her; she had always believed in the best of people, only to watch them fail her expectations, so what was the point anymore? If she worked for herself, she wouldn't be burdened with other people's faults and failures. Any mistakes would be hers alone, and she could live without any regrets.

Except…

"What if," she began tentatively, trying to word this correctly. "What if you had two really, really close friends, but one day they just decided to leave you without any explanation? They weren't bad friends, though, so should I keep holding on to them?"

"Honestly," Tess replied, "I would just try to forget about them. If they chose to leave you, an amazing friend, then it's their loss. Besides, remembering them has done nothing but make you miserable, so why hold onto those memories at all? As your friend, I think it's best for you if you just let them go and pretend they never existed at all."

"You know what?" Jenny began, a smile creeping onto her face, "I think that's exactly what I'll do." _I never needed them anyway. I was better than both of them combined. After all, I'm the Element of Love. _The last line echoed in her mind with a weak conviction, as if even she didn't believe it anymore.

"Good," Tess said, a smile present on her face once more, its light illuminating every part of her features with its beauty. "Now come on, let's get you on the dance floor!"

Suddenly giddy with excitement, Jenny let herself be dragged onto the dancefloor. She was walking with a spring in her step, never feeling so light before in her life. It was almost like… she was happy. Really, truly happy.

Meanwhile, Tess let her flawless performance drop for a fraction of a second, giving just enough time for a malicious sneer of triumph to cross her face and illuminate a crimson glow in her eyes.

_Phase One complete._

* * *

"What's up, Nicole?" Valerie asked once the last patron had been attended to. "You're looking like some guy's pathetic rejected ex right about now. And don't tell me it's the drinking, because you can down ten shots like it's nothing. You sure that's not a halfling thing?"

Slouched in one of the bar's high stools, Nicole looked up from the floor to give the bartender a glum, half-felt smile. "No, I'm pretty sure it's just me with a tank for a liver," she joked weakly, her heart not really in it.

"Come on, you're not fooling anyone," Valerie said, setting down her glass and giving Nicole that look that was stern and concerned and compassionate all at once, something that only a close friend could muster. "Just tell me what's going on, and don't insult my intelligence by brushing it off as stress from the mission, dealing with Julianne, a mid-century crisis, or some bunk like that."

Nicole sighed, her finger absentmindedly tracing rings around the rim of the glass. "You're going to hate me for it," she warned, still not meeting Valerie's eyes.

"Just tell me already," Valerie demanded chidingly. "Don't worry, I'm a big girl, not like babydoll over there."

Sighing in defeat, Nicole closed her eyes and clenched her jaw, as if the words that came spilling from her mouth would be like physical blows. "Do you… do you ever feel like what we're doing is wrong?"

There was a moment of pause before Valerie said lightheartedly, "Seriously? You're one of Lady Lucia's top agents, have lived for centuries, committed the highest acts of treason against most major countries worldwide, and you're worried about _underage drinking_?"

"No, it's not that… it's all of it, really. What we're doing. The Conclave. All of it."

At that, Valerie put her hands on her hips bossily as she slammed her glass onto the counter. "Now I_ know _you're joking," but both of them never perfectly well that she didn't believe it; Valerie just didn't have the audacity to ask why.

"I don't know why I feel this way now," Nicole confessed, "but I've talked to Tess about it, and she feels the same way. I've done awful things before, and I suppose that comes with the life of an assassin, but then, I was always able to justify it somehow, telling myself it was for the good of the Conclave, of humanity. Whether I was lying to myself or not, I don't know. But this… playing with Jenny's mind, manipulating her emotions to bend to our will… there's just something so intrinsically wrong about it, like I'm destroying something pure and innocent. I don't know, I'm just… starting to question the morality of my actions."

"Do you think the Enclave questioned the morality of their actions when they _turned me into a monster_?" Valerie hissed, her abnormally green eyes seething in anger, an anger that had not dulled with time but rather tempered and fortified into a dominating, unstoppable force. "I went to the Angelic Black Market seeking to gain immortality, but apparently, they get to decidewho's _**[whose]**_desires are deemed worthy enough. Since that stupid fallen angel decided that I didn't have 'good intentions,' she turned me into a bloodsucking monster that relies on killing people to survive! I bought into their lies, and in turn they destroyed my life. I went from being the heiress to one of the richest brands in the fashion industry to an outcast, rejected by both my parents, and forced to work at a low-life bar to make a living. That's the only reason I joined Project Sion, so I could finally have vengeance against the Enclave."

Nicole sighed; she had heard this tirade many times before, but it wasn't like she could blame Valerie for her resentment. Honestly, Nicole actually admired how Valerie could put aside this bitterness to maintain a mostly upbeat attitude. And while Nicole genuinely liked Valerie as a friend, this desire for revenge was what made it so difficult to have business arrangements with her. As if to accentuate her point, Valerie placed two fingers over her neck, bearing a tattoo of a nine-point star, a symbol to identify her as a Sionite.

A recent innovation by Conclavian scientists, Sionites were superpowered humans, typically cursed by the Enclave, turned to serving Conclave of Lexicon through a diluted form of Assimilation, not enough to take away their free will and control their minds, but enough to make them unwaveringly loyal to the Conclave. Most had been roped into the global movement through promises of revenge, restoration to their former selves through Conclavian technology after world domination, large sums of money in payment for their service, or simply acceptance in this new world the Conclave would build. Most Conclavians considered them to be an inferior race, as their main task was to infiltrate worldwide governments, whether through violence, science, or technology, so a Conclavian could successfully Assimilate a political leader. In this way, Sionites acted much like the Conclave's version of the Secret Service, dedicated to protecting them and performing certain unsavory tasks that Conclavians did not wish to take on. Regardless of inferiority, it could not be denied that Sionites and Project Sion, or the Secret Infiltration of Nations, were vital for the Conclave to function.

"While your service in Project Sion is appreciated," Nicole began, slipping into her position as one of the most politically influential members of the Conclave, "you must remember that we are not at war with the Enclave."

"That may or may not have been your intent, but you can't deny that the confrontation will come to a boil, most likely sooner than later. And when it does, I hope they burn in the flames of Hell."

"Some probably already have," said Nicole, her voice flat and emotionless as she relayed the information. "I recently received an update from Lady Lucia that they're sending a large portion of their military base to London."

"Ha! They'll get it when they start seeing their friends go up in smoke like a bonfire," Valerie rejoiced maliciously, her vengeance obscuring any trace of empathy. "They'll be in for a surprise when they discover that the Conclave of Lexicon is built on consecrated ground directly under St. Paul's Cathedral!"

"Which brings us back full circle," Nicole said. "It feels like all I've done to ensure this planet's peace is kill people and watch them burn. Can peace truly stand on such a platform of bloodshed?"

"Look, Nicole," Valerie said, her tone that of a mentor instructing her student, "I know it's difficult to do what we do sometimes, and I can honestly tell you that being part of Infiltration has left some scars that will never heal. But you can't lose sight of what's important. Do you realize how much we, halflings and humans alike, have sacrificed for this ideal? It would be a dishonor to their memory to turn back now. You have to remember the bigger picture. Just give Lady Lucia control of Earth, control of the Element of Love, and it'll turn out better for everyone in the end. You won't have to hide who you are anymore, and can work to create the world you deserve that was so cruelly taken away from you. I can administer justice onto the fallen angels in recompense for their crimes against humanity. Even the other humans, so oblivious to this revolution, will be able to live in a planet filled with a state of peace and harmony that they could never achieve themselves. You can't back out now, not when you're so close. I need you, Nicole. The Conclave needs you. Heck, this very world needs you. A new age is coming, all the rules will change, and everything anyone believed about the world will be shattered. This is not a genocide; this is a revolution, and you have to choose on which side will you fight."

A lesser soul than Nicole would have cowered under Valerie's unrelenting gaze, so strong and full of zealous passion in her cause. Yet Nicole held her ground through the will of her own determination, staring Valerie down like a raging bull until the mortal was forced to look away. Then, realizing that pursuing the matter would be useless (and probably only result in a nightclub brawl), Nicole said, implementing all her self-control, "Of course. Forgive me. I was being foolish. Now, I suppose I should get down to business. First off, are you going to be attending the International Summit of Project Sion tomorrow evening?"

Considerably more at ease, Valerie replied, "Yes. Thalia, the representative for our branch, is ill and unable to make it, so she asked me to go in her place. My plane leaves for London tomorrow morning."

Nicole nodded. "Do you have the files we asked for?"

In response, Valerie took out a locked silver briefcase and handed it to Nicole. "In there is a hard drive containing all current updates of American Infiltration."

"And the virus?" Nicole asked, as Valerie was part of the hacker branch of Project Sion.

"We've implanted viruses into all major government websites, and are currently working to hack into the White House's main security system. We're on standby, coordinating all viral attacks with our associates in Germany and India, and at Lady Lucia's command, we'll be ready to cripple the Pentagon's mainframe infrastructure. All live security footage will be down for about half an hour, which will probably give our agents inside the Capitol enough time to Assimilate."

"Thank you," Nicole said, discreetly taking the briefcase from under the counter, not like anyone there was sober enough to notice. "Just let me step outside, and I'll deliver it to the Lady at once."

With a solemn nod, Valerie led Nicole to the back exit of the nightclub. Knowing personal conversations with Lady Lucia were strictly Conclavian, the Sionite waved kindly before closing the door, leaving Nicole all alone with nothing but the hard drive and her own troubled conscience.

Free from the humid, sweet-smelling atmosphere of Temptation Paradise, Nicole would have taken a lungful of fresh air if she wouldn't had gagged on the wretched stench of rotting garbage-filling trash cans in the deserted Denver alleyway. As was typical of a bustling metropolis, the walls were plastered with obscene graffiti, the kind that looked like letters but was almost impossible to read, especially in the dim light of the waning moon, now peaking far above the towering skyscrapers.

After flinging a knife with scary accuracy at a particularly disgusting rat that scurried by, Nicole fished out her silver medallion, chiseled with a ten-point star, from her pocket. Making sure there were no witnesses, she tossed it in the air as one would flip a coin, letting the circular disk create a wide silver arch in the sky before watching it crash to the grimy pavement. There, it lay motionless before quivering violently; then, like a pebble breaking through the tranquil surface of a pond, the medallion rippled outward to create a shimmering disk of moonlight.

Regarding the newly made portal with an approving eye, Nicole paced once, then twice, then three times around its glassy surface as she contemplated the briefcase in her hand and the potential danger to the very world contained inside.

_I've never really felt true emotion while serving Lucia, _Nicole thought forlornly to herself. _All I've done is lie and cheat and steal and kill without batting an eyelash, because that's what I've been trained to do all my life. I'm little more than a machine, programmed to destroy everything around me in the name of creation. I feel so hollow, like there's a vital part of me that's missing, as if I'm nothing more than a corpse brought to life by some nefarious puppet master. And Tess feels the same as I, Valerie's heart has gone cold in her chest, and even I've seen a haunted deadness in Jenny's eyes. My God, are any of us real and human and alive?! I'm a monster, a goddamn monster!_

_And yet Jenny makes me feel different. She heals, she fills the void, and even in her pain, pain I myself have inflicted upon her, something about her mere presence brings life and soul and meaning. She's changed me, in such ways I can't even fathom. When she looks at me, she doesn't see a murderer, but something else, a hidden drop of goodness that I've all but forgotten. Even at her worst, when she hates herself and everyone around her, she can see something beautiful inside me…_

"And here I am trying to destroy her!" Nicole cried out loud, her acute anguish turning her silent tirade into a melodramatic soliloquy. "Maybe I haven't cared about morals in the past, but Jenny has made me care, and she doesn't deserve her fate."

_Well, you could always destroy the hard drive and save Jenny from falling into Lady Lucia's hands, _a sly voice in her head rationalized.

Biting her lip in uncertainty, Nicole let the briefcase with the hard drive of Project Sion dangle over the very center of the portal that would lead to London, to Lady Lucia. Even though she was alone, she felt as if there were a thousand spotlights shinning down harsh, glaring beams of light as an unseen audience waited in breathless anticipation for what she would do next. Nicole herself was regarding her outstretched hand in panicked fear, as though the appendage had a mind of its own.

_You could be a hero._

But other, far less noble desires fought for her attention. Those of betrayal, treason, torture, and execution invaded her mind, crowding it with an overwhelming fear for her own self-interest.

_Oh, who am I kidding, _Nicole lamented. _I'll never be that strong._

Unable to bear looking, Nicole turned her head in shame as one by one, she pried her fingers from the briefcase, letting it tumble through the air and into the portal, where it sucked in the object greedily before both vanished into oblivion. Meanwhile, Nicole simply stood by and marveled at the irony.

Most Conclavians would feel the greatest pride and accomplishment at such an honored task.

Nicole felt like an executioner swinging a bloody axe down upon innocent Jenny's neck.

Not wanting to idle any more by this awful place, which felt more and more like a gruesome crime scene by the second, Nicole spun around to disappear inside the nightclub in a frenzied whirlwind of flaming red hair, golden strands, and diamond tears.

"Oh hey, you're finally back!" greeted Valerie, daintily sipping from a glass of sluggish red liquid. "I was just about to go out and look for you—"

But Nicole didn't care to hear any of it. "Give me ten shots of the strongest stuff you've got," she demanded.

In no position to object, Valerie immediately scrambled for glasses, doling them out one by one in rapid succession, each filled with a golden amber liquid that burned like fire as Nicole desperately gulped them down. "But what happened…" the puzzled bartender asked.

"I don't quite know," Nicole slurred as she plowed through what would be the first of many rounds of drinks. "But whatever else happens tonight, I hope Tess will stay sober enough to drive us home."

* * *

"Hey Jenny!" Tess called from across the dancefloor in drunken slurs, with a slack grin of feverish happiness. "Look, I'm wearing a lampshade as a hat!" she cried, breathless with laughter. "I have no idea where I got it, but I found it! Isn't that funny?"

One look at the pink-frilled lampshade with multicolored streamers dangling from it that was askew on Tess' head sent Jenny into fits of hysterical laughter as well, leaving the two of them having to drunkenly cling to one another for support.

It was far into the evening now, and during that time, the nightclub had transformed into a place bursting with life. A band and a live DJ were trading off for the music, the stage (and poles to the side of it) was in use, and the dancefloor was lit with dozens of sporadically placed, multicolored lights and stroboscopes giving off intermittent flashes. All around them, people were wildly dancing and, depending on their level of intoxication, sloshing fountains of drinks into the air. Tess and Jenny soon joined in, jumping up and down and fist pumping while drunkenly singing along to the music, as if they were at a rock concert. The intense vibration of the subwoofers blasting music burrowed its way into Jenny's skin, the tremors guiding her every movement into dance.

As much as she racked her brains, Jenny couldn't possibly remember a time when she had felt so happy, so alive. The lights, the people, the music swirled around her in a dizzying, hypnotic spell that it was all she could do to keep from crashing to the floor.

"Hey, Tessie! Nice hat!" a voice called over the clamor. Tess and Jenny turned around to see Nicole staggering towards them. "Guessing you were part of Seven Minutes in Heaven in the bathroom?"

"Yup!" she replied chirpily. "Hey, what do you say we all take off? We can have a much wilder time someplace else!"

"Oo, oo, I know, I know!" Jenny called, waving her hand in the air. "I've always wanted to go streaking!"

"_We went streaking in the park, skinny dipping after dark!_" the two sisters sang horribly out of tune. "Yeah, let's do it!" Tess exclaimed, a bubble of excitement, and so together, the three girls linked arms and skipped towards the nightclub's door.

"You two are much better than Addison and Lisa, and _way_ more fun than Kerry and Syrena!" Jenny exclaimed jovially.

"Stick with us, Jenny, and you'll see that the fun's only just beginning," Nicole said with a sly wink.

"After all, we are friends, right?" Tess added, giggling.

Jenny nodded sincerely. "Definitely."

The moment the doors were thrown open, they were bombarded with a blast of icy cold night air, which felt amazing against their flaming hot skin. The next few minutes mainly comprised of them laughing uncontrollably about absolutely nothing, earning them disgusted glances from the few late-night pedestrians, which only succeeded in making them laugh even harder, until they finally reached the car, where there arose an amusing dilemma.

"Haha!" Tess giggled. "Now we have to figure out who's gonna drive!"

"I've got the keys," Nicole taunted. "Guess it's me."

"No way, Nicky, Val-Val told me you went through a dozen rounds," Tess said in a sing-song voice. "You're wasted!"

"We'll you're not exactly sober yourself, Tessie," Nicole teased. "Who knows what you were doing in that bathroom!"

"I'll drive, I'll drive!" Jenny volunteered eagerly, bouncing up and down in excitement. "It'll be fun!"

"Okay!" Nicole said, tossing Jenny the keys with a laugh. "Show us what you've got, girl!"

The world was hopelessly blurry as Jenny hopped into the driver's seat, with Tess and Nicole piling in behind her. Jenny was just about to insert the keys in the ignition when she heard an awfully familiar set of voices scream in panic behind her.

"Oh my God, Jenny! What are you _doing_?!"

"Quick! Someone stop her, get her out of there!"

"Jenny doesn't know how to drive, Miss Eldridge, it's too dangerous!"

"Miss Swan, I demand you exit that car immediately!"

A cold wave of dread shocked her body, shattering her drug-induced state of bliss as Jenny reluctantly turned around to see Jessica, Addison, Lisa, and Miss Eldridge standing at the side of the car, all staring down upon her with the utmost rage and disapproval.

_Oh God, I am so screwed._

* * *

**Thought you would find out what happened to Rebecca? Ha! You'll have to wait until next chapter! Expect Chapter 10 on Wednesday like normal.**

**Love to all,**

**Bella**


	11. Hitting Rock Bottom (J and KS)

**Sorry for this chapter being a day late, but... well, I couldn't resist. I purposely pushed it back a day so I could celebrate my one year anniversary on FanFiction! Yup, exactly one year ago, I posted my first story on this site, thus starting the long, amazing chain of events that led me here. Looking back, it's crazy how much this hobby, which was just supposed to be something fun to do for the summer, has changed me as a person. And I know I have all of you to thank, because I'm certain I wouldn't have gotten half as far as I have without your kindness and support. So, thank you all! *virtual hug***

**Props to my godfather for beta-editing this chapter! (Sheesh, I was derping a lot in that first draft!)**

* * *

_"We are_ very_ disappointed in you, Jennifer."_

_The girls had been driven home, the calls had been made, and now, worst of all, the parents had been informed. By this time, it was about one in the morning, and Jenny was staring at the floor in shame while her parents' reprimands struck her like a verbal whip. She was home now, thankfully, while her friends, annoying saviors, and math teacher waited patiently in the other room, although it could have been disputed whether or not this was out of politeness or a desire to protect themselves from the hurricane of parental ire that was preparing to rain down heavenly fire at any moment._

_"We leave you alone in the house for _one night_, and _this_ is what you decide to do?!" Jenny's mother screeched. While a calm and passive soul at most times, in fits of anger, Mrs. Swan was a force to be reckoned with, her sonorous volume and wide vocal range making Jenny rue the day she, knowing her mother's childhood love of the opera, suggested her mother to join the local church choir on weekends, as she was currently engaged in a wager with the universe to break any and all glassware within a five-mile radius just for Jenny's express torture. "We come home to get a call that you were caught drinking underage, at a nightclub without ID, and were about to drive home, knowing full well that you were intoxicated and without a license, and that you would probably have been killed on the way!"_

_"I am truly disgusted at you, Jennifer," her father added, not one to be left out of the chance to barrage her with all the ways she was a disgraceful daughter. "This not how I expected a child I raised to behave."_

_"Clearly," her mother continued, "you have proven to not be mature enough to handle the responsibilities and privileges we have given— Jennifer, look at me!"_

_Jenny's blue eyes met their mirror reflection, one displaying rage and hurt, and the other bearing signs of shame, insignificance, and humiliation. She was too tired to feel any righteous anger towards her punishment, in part because at heart, she knew she deserved it. Still, a bit of sympathy wouldn't be too much to ask!_

_"What do you have to say for yourself?" her mother demanded._

_All that night, Jenny was sober enough to know it would be best if she didn't speak and let Nicole and Tess do the talking. Now, it took all of her willpower to suppress all the sarcastic retorts Jenny so desperately wanted to say, to not vent her frustration just yet. Pleading wouldn't help, and weak justifications would make things worse, so the only thing Jenny could do was speak the truth in the form of silence._

_And that silence clung to the very air, the unspoken words carrying more power than any apology could. It sang of remorse, repentance, frustration, confusion, and a million more things that simple words could not convey. And amidst all those swirling emotions, there arose a desire for comfort, and it made even her parents' eyes soften with a hint of sympathy._

_"Go to bed, Jenny," her father ordered in a slightly less stern voice. "We'll discuss this more in the morning."_

_When Jenny was younger and was just discovering the dictionary of all crude language known as swearing, she would often march up the stairs in anger and, since it was forbidden in the household, curse silently and make obscene hand gestures in the general direction of her parents. And this is what Jenny regressed to now, shouting silent anathemas all the way up the staircase, screaming herself hoarse without saying a word._

* * *

In a halfway point between a dream and a memory, these were the thoughts Jenny was first greeted with as her aching mind crawled slowly to consciousness. With a moan, Jenny stumbled out of bed, only to be attacked by a sickening wave of nausea. It seemed the cheerful first rays of morning sunlight streaming through her window were mocking her as Jenny weakly crawled down the hall to the bathroom just in time to spend a good twenty minutes of quality time with the toilet, the mushy contents of her stomach, and her wounded pride.

When Jenny was certain her digestive system was empty and had just been reduced to dry heaving, she pressed her head against the blissfully cool bathroom tiles in an attempt to dull the persistent, aching throbbing in her head. It felt as though her brain had been replaced with bricks of lead that weighed a ton, and whimpering, she began to cradle her head in her hands, rocking back and forth until the pain subsided enough for her to stand upright once more. With a moan, Jenny stumbled back to her room and glanced at the digital clock on her nightstand to discover it was 6:20 in the morning, which was way too early to be up on a Saturday morning.

A good part of Jenny wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed and nurse her terrible hangover, not wanting to face the torture this day would undoubtedly be, but she knew it would only be putting off the inevitable.

The first order of business was hopping into the shower, (where a few stray vestiges of last night's dinner came up to join her). Once back in her room, the first thing Jenny did was fling open her baby blue curtains to let golden sunlight flood the room. It was snowing now, little white flurries performing complex acrobatics outside her window. She nearly tripped over her upturned painting easel on her way to the closet, where she started grabbing the first articles of clothing she saw, too ill from her hangover to care if they matched. Pulling off her monkey pajamas lined with fleece, she swapped it out for a tacky wool sweater that itched in every conceivable place, a pair of faded blue jeans, a pair of hole-riddled socks washed so many times that they were in the middle ground between off white and grey, and her brand-new black shoes that just slipped on (dealing with shoelaces would've been disastrous).

Straightening up, Jenny sighed. Time to face the bathroom once more.

It took no less than five rounds of brushing her teeth to rid her mouth of the awful taste of stale alcohol. After tossing her pajamas into the hamper, Jenny started to tackle the dripping wet, tangled, red-brown abomination that was her hair.

After plowing through that 15-minute battle, Jenny splashed some water in her face in a feeble attempt at rejuvenation. Deciding not even the thickest coat of makeup could mask the red, bleary, blood-splotched disaster her eyes had become (and knowing she was too lazy to be bothered even if it was fixable), Jenny left the bathroom feeling considerably better. Not completely better, as the hollow ringing her aching head so rudely reminded her, but better.

Jenny had never realized before how lonely the house felt in the early hours of the morning. Her mom and dad were asleep in the adjacent room, and even her pet cat, Cocoa, was a curled-up, slumbering, [delete] yet adorable ball of fuzz in her little pet bed. In this way, Cocoa very much took after her owner, preferring to sleep until late morning. Smiling with a certain motherly affection, Jenny went downstairs to fill up a bowl of cat food and a bowl of water and then set it gently by Cocoa so she could have breakfast in bed.

She was just about to go downstairs again and fill up her currently drained stomach with breakfast of her own when she suddenly heard a quiet tap on her windowpane like a stone being thrown. Curious, Jenny looked out the window, only to reel backwards in trepidation.

Addison, Lisa, and Jessica were standing in her backyard.

* * *

"What are you three doing here?" Jenny demanded after rushing in a mad dash down the stairs, only pausing to quickly put on a coat and boots before running out into the gentle snowfall. "Haven't you caused enough trouble for me already?"

"You should be grateful to us, Jenny!" Addison shouted. "If it weren't for us, you could've died in a car crash!"

"I didn't ask for your help! I would've been fine on my own! I could've had some fun for once, but _no_. You three just _had_ to go and cry to the nearest adult, because none of you think I can handle things myself!"

"Yeah, and look how well that turned out," Addison said.

"Look, I've been lectured enough about how I'm such a failure to humanity," Jenny snapped, "so why don't you all just tell me why you're here so I can send you well on your way."

"We came because we're your friends and we care about you!" Jessica cried. "I know you probably don't believe it, but we do! Last night, Miss Eldridge was planning to talk to Principal Newland about having you expelled from St. Francis. It was only because of us vouching for you that we convinced her not to."

"Well, I wish that you hadn't!" Jenny screamed. "Anywhere is better than St. Francis, where I have to put up with people like you! I don't even know why I tolerated any of you in the first place!"

"Jenny," Lisa began cautiously, like a person trying to negotiate with a raging bull. "I know that things have been difficult with your life lately. Between that Russian kidnapping you were involved with two years ago and your recent months dealing with depression, it can be difficult to cope with stress. There may be days when you feel hurt, or sad, or angry, but—"

"I don't need you to play therapist, Lisa!" Jenny screamed, causing Lisa to back away in silence, her wide eyes looking up at Jenny fearfully from behind the protective stances of Addison and Jessica.

"Now you leave her alone!" Jessica scolded in response to Jenny's abrasive behavior.

"You're the ones who should leave me alone!" shouted Jenny, now gesturing emphatically. "I wish you would just go away and never talk to me again!"

A heavy silence soon followed this, as if the pure gravity of the statement had been enough to drag all sound and emotion to its core.

"So, that's it then," Addison said in a dangerously soft voice, sounding more hollowed and defeated than angry. "We saved your life, and yet you could care less. After all we've been through together, I guess none of it really mattered to you. Well, I suppose it is true what people say about you, Jenny. You really don't have an ounce of love in you."

If this were a story about happiness and friendship, then it is, in all likelihood, that Jenny, overcome with remorse, would instantly regret her outburst and in a heartfelt speech would confide in her friends about her deepest sorrows and fears, only to have the four girls come together in a group hug of comfort and forgiveness. However, this was not the case, and Jenny simply stood by and watched as Addison, Lisa, and Jessica turned around and marched away until they were little more than three tiny specks in the snow, leaving Jenny cold and alone.

Trembling with shock, Jenny numbly sank to her knees, oblivious to the whirlwind of snowflakes raging around her. Still on the ground, she swayed to and fro until she finally collapsed in the snow and let the whole world scream at her while she covered her ears and tried not to hear the horrible truth in their accusations.

"I can't take this anymore!" Jenny sobbed out loud, her arms clinging desperately to her body in an effort to keep herself from breaking apart. "I want it to end!"

Running inside, Jenny had the briefest idea of insanity, a crazy idea that she had contemplated months before, buthad never been able to bring herself to do until now. Only after pausing to make she her parents were still asleep upstairs, Jenny ran into the kitchen and grabbed the first chopping knife she saw. Sprinting back outside into the snow, Jenny knelt down once more, her right hand trembling as she rolled back her sleeve and positioned the knife over the tender underside of her left wrist. This felt both like a holy action of sacrifice and a deplorable crime. Either way, she knew that going through with it and the following consequences would be irrevocable.

_There's no coming back from this, _a voice whispered inside her head. Tears trickled down her face only to be frozen into a million little beads of ice, like diamonds coating her skin.

_I don't care. Anywhere's better than here._

_But this is crazy, irrational, insane—_

_It's going to be fine._

Jenny titled her head to the sky, and with a tortured cry like that of an animal being slaughtered, she brought the sharp tip of the knife down upon her wrist, and with careful precision, broke through the skin and traced a faint line of blood.

Dropping the knife, Jenny watched in horror as the blood from the self-inflicted wound steadily dripped onto the freshly fallen snow, staining it. The burning pain of the cut was detached from her own consciousness, as if another Jenny was experiencing it, although in truth, her mind had not yet caught up with reality. She knelt there for what felt like hours, feeling nothing, not really knowing what to feel. It felt as though that knife had severed some kind of cord to something, and now she was drifting along aimlessly, even more alone than ever.

"Oh my God," Jenny cried, pressing her palm against the throbbing wound. "What have I done? What's h-happening t-to me?"

Not knowing what else to do, Jenny decided the best thing to do was hide the evidence. She covered the blood-soaked snow with some fresh snow, then she took some handfuls of melting snow to clean the knife. As soon as this was done, Jenny fled back inside, some subconscious part of her believing that she could leave all her problems in the dust if she could only run fast enough.

Of course, this was not the case, and Jenny knew it. After putting away the chopping knife and wrapping a scarf around her injured wrist, she grasped the kitchen table for support as she tried to collect her thoughts.

_Oh, how could I have let this go so far_, Jenny moaned to herself. _I should have known sooner how this would affect me. It feels like I can never do anything right…_

Something about her train of thought reminded her of an adage her father had once told her when she was younger. _Remember, Jenny, no matter how far you fall, know__all you need to rise again is someone who is willing to stretch out a hand for you._

That couldn't have been truer, but who would help her now? She couldn't face her parents, it was clear what her school friends thought of her, and Kerry and Syrena… well, they were out of the question.

_It's stupid to cry now, _she scolded herself as the first wave of tears threatened to break her resolve. _It's never helped me before. If no one else can help me, then I have to find someone who will._

Brushing her auburn hair away from her eyes, Jenny looked up at the calendar hanging from a pushpin on the bulletin board, and next to it, the list of important phone numbers, such as those of family members, friends, and other people related to her parents' work as scientists. In particular, one name and phone number stuck out to her. It was that of Dr. Knox, the psychiatrist her parents had recommended in order to deal with the 'Russian kidnapping' from two years ago, but Jenny had always refused to see. Jenny had never thought she'd see the day when she had to resort to psychiatry to deal with her issues, but now, it seemed there was no other option.

_You're already at rock bottom; how much lower can you go?_

Nervously, Jenny dialed the number, her hands shaking so much that she had to hang up and retry several times before she got the order right. She shuffled her feet and twisted her hair around her index finger in a typical nervous habit of hers as she listened to the phone ring once, then twice, then three times before it was cut off by the forcedly cheerful greeting of someone who was most likelysome sort of secretary.

"Hello, is this Dr. Knox's office?" Jenny asked, fighting to keep her voice from cracking. "Yes, I was wondering if I could place a request for an appointment…"

* * *

_Rebecca was cut off mid-sentence by Kerry's scream. Well, not really. She was cut off by something much worse, something that made Kerry back away in horror, her eyes wide with terror as she screamed and screamed, as if screaming would somehow be enough to wake her up from this horrible nightmare, for the scene presented before her, despite what her senses and logic and reason might say, could not possibly be reality. Still, she would be a fool to deny the concrete proof that was right before her very eyes._

_Rebecca had just burst into a pillar of flame._

"Oh my God," Kerry breathed in horror as she backed away from the smoldering pile of ashes that until a few seconds ago had been Rebecca. "Oh my God!"

"What. The. _Hell _just happened?!" Syrena demanded to Daphne, the nearest authority figure she could find.

Still recovering from her own bout of shock, Daphne sighed. "It appears Lucia has had the foresightto build her headquarters directly under St. Paul's Cathedral, consecrated ground upon which no fallen angel can enter without bursting into flames, which ensures that an attack against the Conclave is all but impossible for us."

"No," Syrena cried. "No, no, no, this is impossible."

"You have to admit, it is an exemplary bit of ingenuity, both as a battle tactic and a defensive mechanism. Not only could such a detriment literally incinerate our army, but in the event of attack, they could just barricade themselves in the safety of the cathedral."

"But… what's going to happen to Rebecca?" Kerry asked. "I mean, she's... g-gone now. Is she going to go to Heaven, but she's been exiled from there—"

"If you wish to know the fate of Rebecca's soul, I am sad to inform you that she does not possess one," Daphne stated with a blunt coldness. "No fallen angel does. We are soulless creatures with our essence taken from us at the moment of our fall from cannot deny the fact that there remains a hollowness of our very existence that cannot be filled. She has, in all likelihood, been sentenced to oblivion, which, all things considered, is quite merciful when looking at the alternative, especially since Heaven is out of the question for us."

"That… that's not true!" Kerry shouted, not caring if even Lucia herself heard her, because Rebecca was gone, and nothing else mattered anymore. "She was a good person, with a good heart. She does have a soul, and she'll find a way back to us!"

"No, she will not," Daphne said mercilessly. "She knew perfectly well that she was going to die when she came down here."

"How would she possibly know that?!" Kerry demanded, growing irritated with Daphne's pretentiousness and irrationality. "You just said yourself that the Enclave had no idea that the Conclave was built under St. Paul's Cathedral."

"She did not know the method of her death," Daphne explained, her golden eyes flashing with impatience, "but she knew it would come soon, just as you predicted, Kerry."

The look on Daphne's face just after she spoke said perfectly clear that she had let something slip. "What. Are. You. Talking. About?" Kerry demanded, her voice dangerously soft and collected.

"Perhaps nowisn't the time to discuss such things," Daphne said quickly, making subtle glances to her loyal followers, all of whom were regarding their leader with the utmost confusion.

"No," Kerry said, her voice injected with such a lethal poison that it made even Syrena back away. "Tell me now."

Seeing there was no way to talk her way out of this confession without making a scene, Daphne sighed in defeat. "The Symbols of Beauty do not just enhance your physical forms," she began, speaking to Syrena as well. "Each gift also comes with a special set of supernatural abilities that are attuned to your Element. Syrena, as the Element of Light, you are able to see a visible manifestation of the 'spark' that lights the human soul, or a lack thereof. You can communicate with them on a deeper, more spiritual level, understanding their thoughts, emotions, and desires, their joy and despair becoming your own. It was this Gift of Light that allowed you to find Scarlette in Japan. As for you, Kerry, the Element of Hope, you have the ability to see into the future by means of physical contact, and determine a person's fate. When your hand burned when you touched Rebecca, it was an omen of her own death via fire."

"Now you can see why I wished to wait until a more appropriate time," she added in response to Syrena and Kerry's horrified expressions. But Kerry couldn't hear her, for she was too lost in her own train of thought.

_I predicted this… I predicted her death. How could I not have seen this before? Even if I didn't know about the future thing, hearing the church songs should have been enough to piece it together! Oh my God, it's all my fault!_

"…Kerry?" Kerry heard someone distantly say. As much as she strained to form words, she couldn't respond, the voice sounding more and more garbled and distorted, as if she were hearing the cry from underwater. "Kerry!"

This seemed to finally arouse Kerry's response system, and she snapped back to reality only to find to her surprise that she was lying prone on the floor, with a dozen anxious faces peering in a circle above her. Among those was Syrena, who upon noticing to her relief that Kerry was responsive, at once took the initiative to practically haul her to her feet.

"Kerry? Are you okay?" Syrena asked, her wide eyes examining Kerry like a worried, doting mother. "You were in some weird state between blacking out and fainting; are you alright?"

Kerry numbly shook her head as all the scattered puzzle pieces were brought together by horrid logic to form a gruesome yet undeniable picture of reality, one she should have figured out earlier but somehow didn't have the insight. Or maybe worse still, some part of her had known all along, and she had just conveniently pushed the truth away because she couldn't bear it, even if it cost Rebecca her… no, it wasn't even her life; it was her very existence that had been nullified by what Kerry did – or more correctly, didn't do.

And before Kerry's mind had fully processed what she was doing, she found herself running down endless tunnels and passageways, some part of her naively hoping to leave her guilt far, far away, bumbling and confused as it wandered this labyrinth, just as she was doing. Finally, with nowhere to go, Kerry collapsed in the corner of a rotunda, shrouded in darkness and shadows, her heaving gasps for air from her exertion slowly turning into sobs of hysteria.

"Kerry?" cried a voice in the distance. "Kerry! Are you freaking insane?"

The voice turned the corner to reveal it was none other than Syrena. Her pale blonde hair frazzled and flowing around her face in gentle waves, Syrena's crystal blue eyes, hardened with concerned fury, heralded an oncoming wave of verbal reprimands involving running off by herself, as she took what would have seemed to be a calming deep breath that was in fact only meant to be used as ammunition. However, the girl faltered upon seeing Kerry sobbing in the corner, an emotional wreck.

"Hey, Kerry," she began in a much more compassionate tone as she moved to sit by her friend. "What's the matter— no, that's a stupid question. Of course I know what's the matter; I kinda heard the entire thing. I don't know why I said that; maybe it's because that's what people normally say, even though practically 90% of what people normally say is useless, meaningless, and insignificant. Anyway, what I'm trying to do is give you some emotional support…" At this, Syrena's rambling faded into silence as she looked around aimlessly, as if she were expecting some grand, inspiring, morale-boosting speech to be engraved on the walls. When it was clear that none were _**[was]**_to be found, she started up again.

"Gosh, I'm trying to think of the right thing to say… I mean, if I was feeling down, you'd probably go into this great philosophical lecture about the meaning of life that I wouldn't really get but would still make me feel better anyway, and Jenny would just give me a hug and tell me everything would get better because we're all together, and something else sappy like that. I don't know, I guess I've never been too good at comforting people, not that I don't care about people's feelings, but I've just never had the tact to deal with people's whining about problems that don't really matter. But you… you're different. And this problem is a lot different, because it really is bad this time, and I really want to help in any way I can, but I just don't know how. I'm just as confused as you are, and I don't want any of this, either. And after you made me feel better about the battle with Scarlette, now I feel I owe it to you to do the same, and I'm completely bombing it right now. It's just I'm not that good with words or emotions, so I don't know what would really help you feel better, unless you're really dying for someone to kick a soccer ball in your chest. Oh for heaven's sake, I'm going about this all wrong, aren't I? I probably sound like a complete idiot. Seriously, you'd think I have the emotional capacity of a mollusk or something…"

Syrena would have gone into a whole new tirade of rambling if Kerry hadn't gently placed a hand on her shoulder and given her the sincerest of watery smiles. "Syrena, it's fine," Kerry said placatingly, with the tiniest bit of amusement in her voice. "Seriously, it's okay."

At this, Syrena nearly rocketed through the ceiling in alarm. "What?! No, it's not okay! I didn't even help you at all!"

And then, Syrena heard a beautiful sound. Laughter. It started out small, just a few weak giggles, before rising to great, bellowing peals, until it escalated to a point where Kerry was clutching her sides as her breaths turned into desperate gasps for air from laughing so hard. And the sight of Kerry laughing in spite of the awful situation they were both in made Syrena laugh from irony, and soon the two of them were clinging to each other like lifelines as they laughed and cried and poured out their emotions, as tangible as a flowing stream or electricity coursing unseen through the air. And it felt like old days, days of youth, when things were simple and life had a certain harmony that came with ignorance.

"You have helped me," Kerry began as the two started to regain their composure. "Just by being yourself." And this was true. Syrena hadn't made the pain and guilt go away, but rather had helped Kerry forget about it for a little while, and sometimes, that was all that was really needed to begin moving on. There would soon come a time when it would resurface once more to be faced, but for now, Kerry allowed herself this one moment of peace before the storm.

"Let's just not talk about it for now, okay?" Kerry said, to which Syrena firmly nodded her head. "I'll deal with all… _that _later, but for now, we have much more pressing matters on our hands, matters that don't just concern us, but the entire world. Namely, how the Enclave is supposed to attack the Conclave of Lexicon without being roasted before even crossing the welcome mat. And believe it or not, I think I might know how."

Kerry paused and took a deep, soothing breath before continuing. "Okay, this is going to sound like a really crazy question, stemming from an even crazier idea, but it needs to be asked:

"Do you think Heaven can negotiate?"

* * *

"Hello?" Daphne asked, glancing around with guarded mistrust, as if she expected someone to spring from the shadowy corners and tackle her. It was later now: night had fallen over the city of London, the Enclave's troops had been sent back to reconvene, and Daphne was all alone in the London Underground, speaking into a tiny microphone clipped to the collar of her shirt. "Yes, it's me. Yes, I'm alone. Listen, Noemi, we've found it," she said, her professional demeanor barely concealing her excitement. "We've found Lucia."

"And perfect timing, too," said Daphne's head advisor from the other end. "The International Summit of Project Sion is scheduled for tomorrow evening."

"Oh, that's too perfect," Daphne said in a disturbing cross between glee and derangement. "It's like the icing on the cake. I'll deal with the Sionites, but they're not my target."

"You think it's time?"

"But of course," Daphne remarked devilishly. "Contact all our major mining facilities worldwide and let them know that their years of labor are about to pay off."

"Yes, Daphne. If you send me the coordinates, I believe we can have 69% of all refined material transported to London within the next few days."

"69 percent only?" Daphne scoffed. "That's not nearly enough. I want all 100% of all refined product available."

"B-but, Daphne, the reserves—"

"It doesn't matter to me," she interrupted. "We've waited too long as it is. This is our one chance, and I expect to strike at full force."

"And what about Project Sion?"

"Don't worry, Noemi," Daphne said. "I know two people who are well up to the challenge of decimating that abomination of a half-breed race."

"N-No mercy?" Noemi asked, with the tiniest bit of hopeful pleading in her voice.

The Angel of Compassion sneered. "No mercy."

* * *

**As for Jenny's part... yes, I totally went there. Hopefully that sweet scene between Kerry and Syrena was able to balance it out.**

**Will I finally be able to get back on track with my updating schedule? *runs to check calendar* Yes, I think so! Here's a sneak peak at Chapter 11, "Smoke and Mirrors"**

_"My Lady!" cried Angelina, the ghostly phantom representing Wales for the summit, "there's… been… a security breach… I don't know who they are, but they weren't stopped by the Consecrated Barrier. Whoever they are, they're not Enclavian, but they know who we are and that we're here."_

_ There was no sound, no movement, as everyone on the Council, even Lucia herself, was frozen in fear, no one daring to make even the slightest of noise as everyone's ears strained to hear the faint sound of footsteps echoing of the tunnel walls, first quiet, then growing steadily louder until it was like a deafening roll of thunder in the wake of all this silence._

_ Terrified, Valerie breathed the single sentence she knew was written on all their trembling lips, reflected in all their glassy stares, and etched in the deepest chambers of their hearts run cold._

_ "They're coming."_

**Yup, Valerie's coming back! Come back on Wednesday to read the chapter that will mark the halfway point in this story!**

**Love,**

**Bella**


	12. Smoke and Mirrors (J and Con)

**It's the last day in July! How did this month go by so darn fast?! *sigh* I can just feel school creeping just around the corner, along with that biology homework I still have to do. (Yay for Queen Procrastination!) Anyway, let's not waste any more time and get started!**

* * *

"Everything's all set, Jenny," her father said as he stalled the car at the curb to let Jenny exit. "We'll be back at five to pick you up once your appointment is over."

"We're so proud of you, Jenny," her mother called from the rolled-down window. "You've done a good thing."

_Needing to see a therapist for psychopaths is something to be proud of? _Jenny scoffed. Still, she accepted the commendation, and with a forced smile, waved goodbye to both her parents until they melded in with the indistinguishable mass of cars speeding down the highway.

With a heavy sigh, Jenny pulled her jacket even tighter around herself, shrugged her shoulders to jostle her backpack into a more comfortable position, and with a defiant glare better suited for a delinquent, braced herself for what would come ahead. Climbing the front steps felt like scaling a mountain for all the effort it entailed, and more often than not, Jenny found her eyes wandering distractedly over the features of Stillpoint Mental Health.

The entire building was coated in a sterile, alabaster white, with neatly trimmed hedges, an ivory fence lining the porch, and five grand pillars marking the entryway. The place was pristine, perfect, clearly rolling in the deep, and nothing like Jenny had expected at all. Perhaps it was just stereotyping and too many horror movies, but Jenny had been bracing herself all day to march into an old, dilapidated building, much like a haunted house, with patients in straitjackets and moaning like zombies. At least on the outside, graced with golden beams of sunlight underneath a blue sky, this psychiatric institution looked perfectly normal and innocent.

Of course, the innocent ones always had something to hide.

Taking a deep breath, Jenny placed a nervously trembling hand on the handle of the rosewood door and gently pushed it open just enough for her to slip inside.

Jenny found herself standing in a luxurious lobby room, complete with Oriental carpets, expensive furniture so new and perfectly arranged that Jenny wouldn't dare sit upon it, and a grand crystal chandelier that wouldn't have looked out of place in the mansion of a wealthy patron. You didn't need to see a price tag on any of it to know that this place was rolling in the deep. Even Jenny, whose parents made quite a bit more money than the average American (which was obvious, since Jenny didn't want to think about how much one session for this place would cost), felt small and insignificant next to this wealth.

"Hello? May I help you?" asked a polite voice from the other end of the room. Jenny nearly jumped out of her skin until she noticed the young woman, most likely a secretary, waiting patiently at the front desk.

Blushing in embarrassment, Jenny quickly made her way over to the secretary. "Hi. I'm Jennifer Swan, and I was scheduled for a psychiatric appointment with Dr. Knox at four?"

The lady started typing a few words into the computer to confirm Jenny's information before looking up and smiling apologetically. "I'm afraid Dr. Knox isn't in today, so your appointment will be with Dr. Greene instead. She's the fifth door on the left, sweetie." _**  
**_

With a polite thank you, Jenny started down the hallway the secretary had pointed to. As she walked, Jenny wanted to peek into some of the offices' windows, hoping to gain a better understanding of this place before she went in herself, and she very well would have, if it hadn't been for the tinted glass or drawn blinds obscuring the view. And so, deciding she shouldn't waste any time idling, Jenny entered Dr. Greene's office completely blind as to what to expect.

The first part that struck Jenny when she tentatively opened the door – and perhaps she had been foolish for not realizing it beforehand – was how very unlike a doctor's office it was. No, this place was a study more than anything else, with thick, heavy tomes residing cozily in rosewood bookshelves that lined all four walls of the office, and it made Jenny think of a professor's room or a secluded private nook of a library in that regard. The place had a certain refined yet approachable atmosphere, with comfortable chairs and sofas that Jenny was not at all worried about disturbing, and it even had a hearth with a merrily crackling fireplace, a welcome sight in the cold of January, and in this way, the office could be compared to a sort of parlor room. The final aspect worth noting about the office was the large desk set off to the side, littered with a couple oftrinkets, one or two picture frames, and a shiny golden plaque, bearing the name Dr. J. Greene, that rested proudly upon the desk.

But of course, this setting would be incomplete without describing the person sitting behind that desk. She was a pretty young woman, most likely in her early twenties, with long brown hair pulled into a high ponytail, stylish glasses with aqua blue frames that accentuated her own cobalt eyes, and a conservative amethyst-colored dress. When she heard Jenny come in, she looked up from a document she had been reading to flash Jenny an award-winning smile that while perfectly timed, felt true and genuine.

"It's okay, you can come in," Dr. Greene said coaxingly. Rising from her chair, Jenny saw she was of a diminutive stature, only one or two inches taller than she was. "I'm Dr. Greene," she introduced, shaking Jenny's hand. "You must be Jennifer."

"Just Jenny is fine," Jenny corrected shyly, too nervous to make eye contact, instead opting to peruse the details of the carpet.

"Well, Jenny, why don't you just dump your backpack and coat in the corner, and we can get started."

Jenny did what she was told and was then guided to one of the plush sofas by the fireplace, with Dr. Greene sitting on the opposite side, waiting patiently.

This was the part Jenny had been dreading. All during the car ride, she had been practicing perfectly scripted conversations in her head in which she flawlessly explained the emotional chain reaction that had led to Friday night's incident, even going so far as to bullet key notes on her hand with a pen. But now, faced with the actual proposition, all those perfectly worded phrases Jenny had struggled so tirelessly on had flown out the window, leaving Jenny feeling like she was an actress who had forgotten her lines and was now forced to perform the entire play off the cuff. She kept fiddling with her hands nervously as she stared into the fire, unsure of how to begin.

"There's no need to be nervous, Jenny," Dr. Greene began soothingly. "I'm not sure if you were told this, but everything you say in this meeting is confidential. Not even your parents will know the specifics besides a general overview; it's that off the record. This entire conversation is just between you and me." The psychiatrist paused for a moment, searching for an analogy. "It's a lot like confession at church."

_Great, _Jenny moaned. She had always hated confession, which was mandatory two times a year, and each morning beforehand was spent frantically thinking of three sins that were true yet not so terrible.

"It's just that…" Jenny began nervously, struggling to find the right words, "I've never really experienced something like all this," —Jenny vaguely waved to encompass the psychiatric office— "and the fact that I don't know many people who have had to stoop so low as to this…" **  
**

"Needing psychiatric help is nothing to ashamed of, Jenny," Dr. Greene said. "It doesn't mean that you're weak, or needy, or unable to solve your problems, and in fact shows quite the opposite. Realizing that you need someone to help you do what you can't on your own not only shows a sign of maturity but also works out better in the long run than if you had chosen to ignore the problem and let it become worse and worse. Needing a little help is natural, Jenny, and there's no shame in that."

Jenny nodded, still keeping her head bowed.

"I know you may not want to talk about what happened on Friday evening just yet, seeing as it occurred so recently," Dr. Greene said with a tone of understanding, "so maybe it'll help if we talk about something in your past, something you've had more time to sort through. It says in my file that you were kidnapped by a Russian terrorist group two years ago?"

"Yes," Jenny replied in response to the mention of the cover-up story she and her friends had made up to explain away the time they had spent battling Miss Power and travelling to Planet Lexicon.

"That must have been quite an ordeal for you."

"Honestly, it wasn't as bad as most people would think," Jenny began, slowly gaining the confidence to relay her tale (well, at least version modified for the public). "Sure, I was terrified, but I had made close friends with two of the girls who fou— er, were kidnapped alongside me."

At the mention of her two friends, Dr. Greene's face was creased in confusion. "Did you say two other girls were with you?"

"Y-yes," Jenny answered tentatively. "Why, is there something wrong with that?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Jenny," Dr. Greene apologized as she skimmed through her file on Jenny's history, with increasingly frantic and puzzled expressions, "but according to my information, you were the only one involved in the kidnapping."

"N-no, that can't be true," Jenny stammered. "Check again. Their names are Katerina Margret Sullivan and Syrena Roselli Amoretto."

With a sigh, Dr. Greene skimmed through her files one more time before resorting to her laptop. After about ten minutes of searching the Internet, with Jenny anxiously looking over her shoulder, she finally gave up and closed the lid before turning to face the distraught teenager behind her.

"I'm sorry, Jenny, but there doesn't seem to be any trace of those two girls you think you remember."

"No," Jenny cried, backing away from the laptop and its seemingly foul lies in horror. "No! That can't be true! I know what I saw!"

"Now, Jenny, just calm down, okay?" Dr. Greene said, placing a comforting hand on the grieving child's shoulder as she steered her over to the couch. "Come on, let's sit down. Breathe. The medical reports says that your kidnappers injected you with large doses of a dangerous mix of atropine, physostigmine, and scopolamine, all drugs that can cause memory loss, altered perceptions of reality, and severe, long-term hallucinations."

"I'm not crazy, and I'm not hallucinating!" Jenny cried, even though her reaction wasn't exactly helping her case. "They are real, I swear!"

Then, a sudden idea came to her. "The lakehouse," Jenny gasped, like a swimmer just coming up for air. "Kerry and I spent a week over the summer visiting Syrena's summer lakehouse. July 5th through the 12th. I _saw_ them. That couldn't have been my imagination."

Dr. Greene bit her lip as she looked at Jenny with the utmost pity. "Jenny, I'm so sorry," she began, "but I have medical reports saying that you were admitted into the hospital that week, unconscious and completely delirious."

"No," Jenny breathed as Dr. Greene handed her the official medical documents. Distraught, she buried her head in her hands, unable to believe the already far-fetched truth she had believed for so long slowly deteriorating around her.

"Unfortunately, I can't say I'm surprised at your reaction," Dr. Greene said. "After your traumatizing ordeal, it is most likely that your parents and those close to you wished to spare you any additional emotional upheaval by playing along with your fantasies, hoping that they would fade in time. Obviously, they have not. A sad but common mistake people make when regarding situations similar to yours."

"B-But I still remember them months afterward," Jenny cried, "I called them, emailed them…" _Could those really not have existed at all? Was is all just smoke and mirrors? Is everything I believed a lie?_

"While there is a slim possibility the drug could have been affecting your central nervous system all this time, I personally find it unlikely. Rather, I believe that while the drugs were cleansed from your system in a matter of weeks, a part of you was still trying to cope with the horror and shock of being part of such a tragedy, and so you especially clung to the memories of the two girls you imagined, as having someone who truly understood the pain you had gone through would make the memory of it easier to bear."

"But I don't remember any of the kidnapping! I…" Jenny stopped short, knowing perfectly well how a rant about being taken to a distant planet and discovering she was the embodiment of love would sound to a psychiatrist. Starting again, she said, "For the past few months, Kerry and Syrena haven't answered any of my messages… and I have no record of any of the messages I thought they sent me."

"A sign that your mind is slowly coming to terms with reality," Dr. Greene remarked wisely. "The responses you thought you received were most likely figments of your imagination, brought on by some lingering, minor damage to your brain from the hallucinogenic drugs."

In dreams, there always seemed to come a point when everything stopped, the very earth was yanked out from under your feet, and you feel into an endless expanse of dark space before waking up in your own bed, safe with the knowledge that none of it had been real. That sensation had come and gone for Jenny. She was now indeed awake, but she kept impatiently waiting to fall back asleep, for that seemed to be a kinder fate, to leave her happily lucid than take away any scrap of truth she had ever clung to in her life. It felt like with every passing second, more of that truth, more of which had defined her and formed the basis of her perception of reality for so long, had been stripped away, leaving her as nothing more than a dry, withered husk of the lie she once was.

Jenny didn't want to cry. She didn't want to scream, and she didn't want to deny, either. The shattering truth seemed to have sucked her dry, leaving her wanting nothing else but to go home, climb into bed, and stare blankly at the ceiling before sleep took her. Dr. Greene seemed to also realize that nothing she could say or do would help Jenny in any way, so instead, she just sat next to Jenny and, like a mother comforting a daughter, held her close in her arms while Jenny stared vacantly into the fire. Despite only having known the doctor for a day, Jenny welcomed the hug, for it felt like the only thing keeping her from breaking apart.

_I've lost my best friends, _Jenny lamented. _I've lost the only friends I've ever had, the friends I never had at all._

After an unknown amount of silence passed between them, Dr. Greene said, "I am so sorry about this, Jenny; truly, I am. I know how much of a shock this must have been to hear all at once, but it would be unfair of me to lie to you."

Finally letting go of Jenny, she stood up and continued professionally, "I think that's enough for this session, Jenny. You should go home and get some rest. At this stage, it's too early for me to tell if you need some prescribed medication, so we'll just have a few more little meetings like this over the next few weeks before I make an evaluation. I'll discuss with your parents whether or not we can take you in to have an MRI of your brain."

Jenny nodded numbly, not hearing a word she said over the millions of persistent questions clamoring for attention inside her head. With more effort than it should have taken, Jenny hauled herself up from the sofa and started bundling up for the freezing cold temperatures outside.

"I know you may not believe it now, but you will get through this," Dr. Greene said reassuringly. "Knowing the problem is the first step to recovery, after all. As for now, I would personally recommend that you try to forget about Kerry and Syrena, and perhaps focus more on making new friends. And of course, if you ever feel the need to talk about something, anything at all, I'm only a phone call away."

Just as Jenny reached the door, Dr. Greene added, "Be strong, Jenny. There is a hidden strength inside you, and you can leave your memories of them behind if all you do is reach out to the real people who care for you. Remember that love is one of the strongest forces this world will ever see."

Jenny held back a sob. _Then I must be the weakest person on the face of the earth._

* * *

With a satisfied sigh, Dr. Greene settled herself back upon her office chair and began to yank the ponytail free from her hair, letting it fall loose and messy down most of her back. She also took off the offending aqua blue glasses; really, such an annoying stage prop for someone who had much keener eyesight than most of the human race. After fiddling with her appearance further, she decided that she couldn't put it off any longer. With a tsk of annoyance, she took at **[out]**her cell phone and hit #1 on speed dial.

"Yes? Of course, it's me," she said irritably.

"What a pleasure to hear from you again," Nicole remarked sarcastically on the other end. "Are you calling to tell us you've finally done something on this mission?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," Dr. Greene replied. "The Element of Love just came by. She completely bought into the forged documents; the poor girl left my office, devastated."

"Lovely," Tess said, sounding too hasty to bother with cynicism. "I suppose that means we can progress to the next stage?"

"I'll have the serum for you girls tomorrow morning," Dr. Greene replied by way of answer.

"I doubt we'll need it," Tess said, "but it wouldn't hurt to have on hand just in case. Thank you in advance."

"No problem, Tess," Dr. Greene replied with a smirk. "At least_ you _were brought up with good manners."

"_Excuse _me?" Nicole shouted, followed by the sounds of quiet scuffling between the two siblings as they fought for control of the cell phone.

"Watch it, Nicole!" Tess chided. "I have a knife in my hand! Do you want to be the second murder? Sorry," Tess said pleasantly after she had gained dominance over the device. "Nicole just has trouble with supervisors, that's all. We'll have another update on Thursday to discuss our progress further. Don't worry, we've taken care of Dr. Knox for you."

"Of course," the psychiatrist remarked, smirking at the mention of the former psychiatrist. "Oh, and one more thing, dear," she added with a nasty sneer.

"Yes?" Tess sighed, her phone conversation accompanied by the persistent squelch of Nicole dragging a bag across the gravel-lined ravine. Tess had repeated this conversation in a thousand different alleys, dumpsters, ditches, gullies, and in this case, the side of a railroad track to know what would come next.

"Have fun hiding the body."

Flipping the phone shut, Tess let out an exasperated groan. _I hate Julianne._

* * *

Workers involved in the London transit system – and really, any out and about Londoner in general – were subject to a very strange sight that evening: Hundreds upon hundreds of foreign travellers, all seeming to be familiar with one another in some way despite being scattered across the globe, had been flocking buses, trains, and many airports, all desperate to cram themselves down into the deepest recesses of the London Underground. Of course, aside from the occasional raised eyebrow and double take, there wasn't much these workers could do to halt such a movement, and most simply brushed it aside as a strange convention of various cultures or something else as equally trivial. But oh, how wrong they were, for this gathering was anything but trivial. Down in the London Underground, at the very heart of the Conclave of Lexicon, the most powerful and influential members of the supernatural community were coming together, and the decisions of tonight's meeting could very much eradicate the foundation of Planet Earth as they knew it.

But Valerie was not choosing to reflect upon the grand scope of what such actions could bring about. The cursed immortal and representative of the United States branch of Project Sion was currently sitting alone at the far end of the huge round table taking up nearly all the space in the room, trying to block out the annoying babble of conversation that would have been difficult enough to decipher even if there weren't over 50 different languages going simultaneously, and was smearing yet another coat of ruby red lipstick on her lips, making them look more ravaged and bloody than beautiful, although, with Valerie's appreciation of irony, that might've been the point.

"Really, Valerie," commented a distinctly French voice disdainfully, "I think you have a bit of face on that makeup; you might want to fix that."

"Watch what you say, mutt," Valerie hissed back, flipping off her antagonist.

A lot could be said about Kaitlin, the French representative of Project Sion. She was gorgeous, tall and statuesque, a model, a donator to charity, charming, amiable, and a vain, self-conceited brat.

She was also a werewolf.

Or, as they so vigorously preferred to be called, an Invulnerable. Well, Valerie couldn't really blame them for hating the derogative, just as Valerie despised the term vampire and many other unsavory names the humans chose for her race of Immortals. Just as Immortals came to angels with the wish to never age and were subsequently cursed for it, Invulnerables had prayed for invincibility from all illnesses and wounds, basically to never be killed (and mind you, there is a difference between never aging and never being killed), only to be transformed into murderous, predatory, unstoppable beasts trained to do the killing instead. It was well known throughout the supernatural community that most Immortals and Invulnerables had a long-standing rivalry with one another.

With this Invulnerable, however, that was not the case. Laughing, Valerie hugged her friend as they continued to bash each other in the playful, non-offensive way that only close friends could pull off.

"It really has been too long, Kaitlin," Valerie said, a ridiculously happy grin plastered on her face.

"Indeed, it has," Kaitlin agreed heartily. "One of these days we must get together outside of our business arrangements."

Valerie was just about to wholeheartedly agree when suddenly, her blood ran cold, stopped dead at the sight of a group of zombies walking towards them.

It was this supernatural denomination that Valerie pitied the most. While vampires and werewolves had been cursed for their desires of immortality and invincibility, zombies, or rather, Unthinkables, had desired nothing more than intelligence or enlightenment from angels. However, the information given to them by the fallen angels was incomprehensible to the human mind, and thus, their brains short-circuited and fizzled out from the overload, leaving them no more than mindless walking corpses, capable of comprehending only the most basic of knowledge and tasks. They were also ingrained with the insatiable desire to futilely try gaining back what was once theirs, even if it was only in the literal sense. Valerie pitied their curse most because while the former two denominations had at least received their desires (albeit twisted, abhorrent forms of them), Unthinkables had lost any hope of achieving any semblance of their wish, and they were also unable to even attempt to make the best of their situation like vampires and werewolves.

Worst of all, Valerie couldn't imagine how they were able to stand walking around every day looking like a person who had never walked into _Maybelline _in their life, much less went within five miles of a decent lipstick.

All in all, it was a truly deplorable existence.

Recognizing one of the Ireland representatives in the crowd, Valerie politely greeted, "Hello Maggie," with the vampire summoning up the broadest smile she could.

Of course, Maggie didn't reply or even take notice, but that was only to be expected. Valerie had only said it out of the will to treat her like a person, not an inferior despite her condition. But despite Valerie's good intentions, Maggie just continued obliviously on her way, every step looking as if it were as painful an ordeal as walking with leaden weights tied to her ankles. And Valerie had no doubt that if granted the ability to feel pain, then Maggie's agony would have been roughly akin to that. From her fragile, nearly translucent bones limply clung her parchment-yellow skin, some parts looking as though they were rotting away. Her sunken dead eyes leered at Valerie from beneath a matted curtain of unkempt hair as she and the other Unthinkables shuffled across the floor and took their designated places at the table. It wasn't as though they could really participate at the summit, but still, they were a part of Project Sion, and thus were granted equal representation, albeit a pitiful one. In fact, the only group Valerie pitied even more was…

"Please be quiet, everyone!" shouted a ghost, whom Valerie recognized as Erin, the Australian representative of Death's Children, as she hovered high about the chattering crowd. While not ghosts in the typical sense, Death's Children had pleaded for a fallen angel to bring a loved one back from the dead, only to have their own souls ousted from their bodies, doomed to wander the world for eternity. Valerie sighed. All this suffering, only because they had desired something with ill intentions, rather than good ones, for if only they had been pure of heart, their wishes would have been fulfilled, not cursed for all eternity.

"Please, everyone!" cried Erin, desperate to make her voice heard above the din. "Lady Lucia is coming!"

At once, the room went silent as everyone snapped to attention, with many scrambling to find and stand by their appropriate seats just before they were graced with Lady Lucia's presence. Their glorious leader waltzed in, her head held high in prideful yet graceful regality as she was met with the sight of 172 standing at attention, backs straight, legs stiff, left arms down, and their right hands up in a respectful military salute.

Valerie always admired the grace and charisma of Lady Lucia: the way sunshine seemed to roll off her to light up a room, how her gentle smile could set even the most troubled of hearts at ease, and the manner in which her brilliant amber eyes overflowed with love and light. As her name implied, she really was the embodiment of all light and goodness, so strong a beacon, and yet Valerie couldn't help but run to defend her; she didn't need diluted Assimilation to stay steadfastly loyal. There was no doubt in Valerie's mind that Lucia would lead them all into a glorious new era, one where she didn't have to hide anymore, and this horrible curse could finally be turned into a blessing.

"At ease," Lucia began, causing all the Sionites to be slightly more lax in their stance as they took their seats, with Valerie taking her place in between and Yosef and Gershon,the two phantom brothers from Israel.**  
**

"Greetings," Lucia continued, holding out her arms in a gesture of welcome, "and welcome to the International Summit of Project Sion. Before we begin, I would just like to thank all of you not only for your presence here this evening, but also for your faithful service to the Conclave of Lexion's cause. Your actions and hard work have been vital to the Infiltration and Assimilation process, and so I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your service."

This praise was met with hearty cheers and applause from the Council, who only settled down once Lucia had taken her place at the head of the table, ready to get down to business.

"First on the agenda," Lucia began, slipping into an official, business-like manner, "is addressing the minor setback in Mexico, where one of Project Sion's operations was witnessed by a civilian."

"My Lady," said Angela, the Mexican vampire ambassador, her cheeks flushed at mention of her country's recent oversight. "I am pleased to inform you that Memory Alteration is being performedon all those involved as we speak. We've also increased security on nearly all of our facilities within close range of the populace to ensure that a crisis like this does not occur again."

"That is good news, Angela. Although, I am afraid I will have to put you and your team on probation, not because I doubt your competence, but rather to act as insurance until we are fully convinced that any threat of human discovery has fully passed."

"Y-yes, Milady," Angela replied, sending covert glowers at a few snickering Council members.

Lucia nodded approvingly before pressing a flashing cobalt button on her wristband, activating a holographic globe that stretched and expanded until it was nearly six feet in diameter, where it then stopped to hover over the entire Council.

"Now," Lucia began, gesturing to the various different countries, most glazed in various shades of red, "with the recent Assimilation of Uzbekistan, Haiti, and Norway, we have seized control of approximately 78.4% of Earth's political powers. I believe that now, when peace negotiations with North Korea and the United Nations are going poorly, this is a prime opportunity for our affiliates in China to—"

"If I may be so bold, my Lady," interrupted Valerie, much to the surprise of the Council, "I believe that with nearly 80% of the world's military power at our disposal, the Conclave of Lexicon should have no trouble with launching a major attack on all currently un-Assimilated countries—"

"I've told you this once, Valerie, and I've told you a thousand times more," Lucia chastised testily, like a teacher impatiently telling a student that 2 times 5 simply did not equal 8, no matter how many times the child claimed otherwise. "I don't care if we Assimilated 100% of Earth, the solar system, or this entire galaxy. The Conclave will not seize dominance over Earth until our scientists can overcome the genetic flaw in halfling DNA. I intend to have all the full powers of a true Lexiconian when I strike, which is why I have sent two of my highest-ranking Conclavian assassins to find the Element of Love. She is key to everything, and I will not have centuries of tireless planning destroyed by impatience and insolence."

Lucia's scolding put Valerie in her place, and she bowed her head in shameful silence.

"We've worked far too hard for it all to slip away now," Lucia continued. "We have fought, we have cried, and many have died for this cause: to bring true understanding to the ignorant, to bring salvation to the undeserving, and to bring peace to a lost and hurting world. And as all of you very well know, sometimes things go so horribly wrong that the only thing that can be done to fix it is to destroy it all and build anew.

"And all of you will be a part of that Great Rebirth. We have all been tormented by some hurt or injustice, but I tell you now that your trials will soon be over. Just as a phoenix rises from the ashes, so we too will rise to build a new world. Our one great advantage is that we have learned from the faults and failures from two planets, and that we will ensure all those mistakes will be eradicated. Planet Lexicon will rise again!"

It was a moving speech, and most of the Sionites present would have clapped, if not given a standing ovation, if it hadn't been for a ghost barging in at that very moment, her already translucent face looking even paler infright.

"My Lady!" cried Angelina, the phantom representing Wales for the summit, "there's… been… a security breach… I don't know who they are, but they weren't stopped by the Consecrated Barrier. Whoever they are, they're not Enclavian, but they know who we are and that we're here."

There was no sound, no movement, as everyone on the Council, even Lucia herself, was frozen in fear, no one daring to make even the slightestnoise as everyone's ears strained to hear the faint sound of footsteps echoing offthe tunnel walls, first quiet, then growing steadily louder until it was like a deafening roll of thunder in the quake of all this silence.

Terrified, Valerie breathed the single sentence she knew was written on all their trembling lips, reflected in all their glassy stares, and etched in the deepest chambers of their hearts run cold.

"They're coming."

* * *

Over the countless years, throughout the millions of different interpretations and reinventions of ancient ideas, humans had imagined a whole plethora of different weaknesses for the supernatural. Holy water for vampires, silver bullets for werewolves, iron crosses for fey and demon folk; the list went on and on. And it wasn't too far-fetched to believe; after all, nothing is perfect, and Valerie personally suspected that humans took a considerable amount of comfort in the knowledge that even the most terrifying of monsters could be defeated through the simple virtues of integrity, hope, and love that were so prevalent among their race. However, they had all been incorrect, simply because they were overthinking the matter, trying to twist and fracture the weakness of the paranormal into a bunch of convoluted theories, when the answer had been in front of them all along. There was only one great fatality of the supernatural, and ironically, it wasn't really all that 'super' at all. In fact, it was one of the most natural things on this planet, found in abundance, and if one knew how to use the weakness correctly, such as now, it could mean the destruction of the entire supernatural race.

That weakness was fire. **  
**

The attackers knew it, Valerie knew it, and she knew they knew it from the first strike of the match, instantly conjuring up raging barriers of flame that sealed off all the exits before beginning to invade the council room like a voracious beast, creeping up behind people only to strangle them in its fiery grip.

Meanwhile, the inside of the council room was going ballistic. Nearly everyone had either morphed into their ulterior forms or had a weapon drawn and ready, but you couldn't exactly behead a plume of flame. Ghosts were wailing, zombies were moaning, werewolves were howling, and vampires were weeping. All around, there were cries of help, threats, and (from those who still had their wits about them) water, but the most prevalent ones were screams of lamentation as people watched in horror as some of their closest friends and associates melted away like waxen dolls before their very eyes.

And in the midst of it all was Lucia, hovering overhead as she helped to drag any flightless Sionites to safety before they were too badly charred. Her regalia already had fallen prey the inferno, the stench of melting metal clinging to her skin as the halfling shouted orders to any abled bodies and struggled to lift more Sionites from the fiery snares of death, each rescue requiring just a bit more exertion than the last, until it was all Lucia could do to keep herself from collapsing into the flames.

Valerie saw all of this as she lay, broken and beaten from being trampled underneath by so many people, on the one merciful patch of ground that hadn't fallen prey to the blaze. Summoning all her remaining strength and resolve, Valerie deftly avoided the bruntof the fire's rage, leaving her sustaining only minor burns when she finally reached her battered leader. She was flying higher now in an effort to evade the steadily rising fire, but judging by her desperate gasps for breath, that also meant inhaling more smoke than oxygen.

"Lucia!" Valerie gasped, not bothering with formalities in this obvious time of crisis, as she rose to meet the flying halfling. "We have to get you out of here!"

"I'm… not… leaving them… behind," Lucia gasped, her words punctuated by racking coughs in her lungs[**']** desperate plea for fresh air. She cried as she saw Angelina, the phantom who had first brought news of the attack, succumb to the fire as well, her translucent ectoplasm being stripped away to let her spirit float like a helium balloon to the heavens above. This sight only hardened Lucia's resolve as she grabbed for a trio of Invulnerables huddling together in fear as the fire drew ever nearer.

"Got… to get… everyone… up to the… rafters…" Trailing off from lack of oxygen, Lucia merely pointed upward to the rafters, where several frightened Sionites were clinging to the wood like lifelines. And while it was an improvement from the ground, even there wasn't safe, as those who hadn't already succumbed to the choking smoke were watching in growing dread as the flames began to gnaw away at the wooden beams, just about to give way.

"B-but you need to escape!" Valerie protested.

"There's… no way. The exits… are blocked… by the fire…"

"I know, and that's why I have a plan. You can use your ice breath to freeze the mortar bricks in the ceiling, causing them to contract. Then, the heat from the fire will make them burst apart from expansion, and you'll be able to fly away!"

"But… that… will cause… an avalanche," Lucia said, and if her breaths weren't so ragged from asphyxiation, her voice would have been bordering on hysteria. "I won't… let… all of you… die."

"You can't worry… about us," Valerie cried as she nearly gagged from the amount of soot and ash. "You're Lady Lucia, the Neo Queen Islanzadi, Mother of Halflings, Bringer of Peace," Valerie continued, using every epithet her foggy mind could come up with. "You're so much more important than us; you have to get away. The Conclave of Lexicon will go on without Project Sion, but it can't go on without you."

"I… will not… put my life… above… the lives… of others. I refuse… to have… people… die… for my sake…"

"Every day since I was cursed, I wanted to die," Valerie cried over the dying screams of the Sionites below. "And my God, I died every single day, over and over again, when I remembered who I was and how much I lost the day I tricked myself into believing Heaven would play fair, because it doesn't, no one does, my Lady. Life isn't fair: it's cruel, it's harsh, it's a puppet master that treats our every breath like a toy for its own amusement. The mistakes I made, the people I hurt, the lives I took; guilt tore out my heart and ate it. I always go to sleep hoping that I don't wake another day. I could have killed myself a thousand times, but I didn't, and do you know why? Because I wanted my death to _mean_ something. We all want to die, my Lady, and we're all willing to die for you, because if our deaths can let you live, you will give us the greatest gift we could ask for, better than glory, or fortune, or freedom from our curse. You would give us the chance to die with honor. And I know that might sound like it doesn't matter, but God, my God, it does, more than you will ever know.

"I know I'm being horribly selfish. I know you have a heart, a good and pure, and so I know what I'm asking of you. I'm asking you to wake up every morning to be plagued by the memory of us dying for you, for your guilty heart will take all the fault as yours. In this way, you'll be giving me a piece of your life as my memory lives on in you, lives on as a horrible burden, all for letting me die with the knowledge few have, the knowledge that I was actually good for something in this life.

"We do not want this because of fear. We do not want this because of Assimilation. We want this because of you, and everything you stand for. Go forth, please, and be a light for the world in our place, as you will burn brighter than we ever could. Do not let your heart be dimmed by sorrow or despair, but rather rejoice for the hundreds of loving souls that will illuminate your heart and light your way. If you ever felt the briefest of compassion for any one of us, you will have the courage to let all of us go." **  
**

Valerie's speech had Lucia convinced. With a loud whoosh like the air being sucked into a vacuum, the halfing released a powerful gust of Arctic wind that coated the entire ceiling in ice, only to be immediately melted away by the blistering heat of the flames. As the first few stones began to give way, Lucia allowed herself only the briefest of small smiles before the sight of Valerie being burned alive became too awful for her to bear. Summoning up the remainder of her strength, the leader of the Conclave left her people, taking flight in a white streak into the fresh cool skies above.

Valerie breathed a sigh of relief as she watched her last hope of salvation fly away, only to be obstructed by the storm of stone and mortar raining down upon her like hailstones. Filled with an empty resignation and sorrow, she looked down upon the rest of the Sionites, some screaming in pain and terror, others preparing to lay down and die, and still others choosing to leap into the flames themselves rather than have their death chosen for them, even though at this point, it was inevitable. All around, there was carnage, ashes, shimmering ectoplasm left behind by Death's Children as they died, and in the very corner, two figures cloaked in black…

Valerie gasped, only to nearly choke on the sulfur and ash circulating in the air. Through her watery eyes, she could see the two people, who had to have been the arsonists, dart through the flames and avalanches untouched to reach one of the few spots in the room that was not being bombarded with chunks of rock, where a part of the wall had miraculously remained intact, where the two arsonists were beginning to latch hold onto tiny crevices and footholds as they scaled the wall on their way to freedom.

Something dimly registered in Valerie's smoke-clouded mind that she couldn't let those two escape with their lives, not after how many they had killed already. It was such a long way to them, even if the floor hadn't been entirely engulfed by the fire, but as a girl who was about to face death either way, Valerie decided she had nothing to lose by going down fighting.**  
**

And so, she began to make her painfully slow way through the blaze. Each step felt like there were 100-ton weights holding her back, and it was as if she was wading through quicksand rather than fire. Valerie whimpered as she felt the scorching fire chew her skin red raw and burn away her lovely black hair before burrowing into her scalp. Beforehand, she had been counting her steps, fighting to gain even an inch of ground, but through the red haze of pain, Valerie had to concentrate with an inhuman intensity just to manage to breathe. As her brain began to shut down, Valerie couldn't hear the screams anymore, her vision was filled with a strange white mist that invaded the corners of her mind, and when her knees finally buckled, she was forced to crawl her way through the fire, often times finding herself on top of charred corpses, their vacant stares leering at her, mocking her for her foolishness for hoping, for dreaming, for living at all.

And yet somehow, Valerie found herself standing before the two arsonists just as they reached the top and were about to make their escape. It was just approaching dusk now, with the entire sky being consumed by the fiery blaze of the setting sun. Valerie sighed. She would've liked to see the peaceful blue expanse of a sunny day before she died. Turning her attention to the fleeing arsonists, Valerie opened her mouth, wanting to speak, shout, do anything to get their attention, but all that came out of her ash-lined throat was a feeble whimper of pain.

Heat was coming off the fire in waves now, and Valerie felt herself falling through a thick, burning red haze to collapse onto a floor that was just as scaldingly hot, where she lay, twitching in pain like a squashed insect. Her breaths were coming shorter now, uneven, and requiring more effort than they should have.

And this was only on the outside. Inside, Valerie was plagued by such a clashing hurricane of emotions that if it were to manifest, it would have easily doused the entire blaze as one snuffs out a candle. Her mind was caught in an endless loop, replaying over and over again the wrongs she had done, the people she had hurt, the atrocities she had committed. Lies, theft, murder; it all came rushing back at full force. During her life, Valerie had believed all these actions were independent of one another, but now, graced with the all too late enlightenment that precedes death, she saw that they were all interconnected, leading up to this one moment of pain. Over and over, the cycle repeated itself, and Valerie was bombarded with regret, awful, horrible regret, both of what she'd done and what she hadn't had the strength to do.

_Oh God… this isn't how I wanted things to end. This isn't what I wanted at all. To spend all my life believing I was doing the right thing, only to discover I was all wrong? How cruel, how cruel; it's too cruel. There really is no mercy in this world. I was such a fool to believe there was such a thing as dying with honor. You can't die with honor when you've lived such a wretched life. Death is death. It'll always come, and it doesn't matter how. It never does, it never did, and it never will._

Looking up to the sky with tear-streaked eyes, the last thing Valerie saw before smoke permanently clouded the mirrors of her eyes was the silhouette of a grey wolf and a winged horse running together into the night.

* * *

**Ugh, sorry about the straight unholy amount of characters introduced for the Sionite part, but basically, when I mentioned that I'm a writer, a lot of people I knew asked if they could have their names in the story (I have no idea why; none of them read this as far as I know). So, I just decided to throw them all into this chapter. **

**Yup, now Jenny thinks she's gone nuts. Oh joy. Hey, at least I didn't make her awful this time. And before you ask just how gullible she is, remember that she just cut herself last chapter, so she's not in a very stable state of mind.**

**Now that that's out of the way, I have a question to ask. I know I've mentioned that I intend to also join FimFiction, which, for those who don't know, is the My Little Pony version of FanFiction. (Yes, we're so huge that we felt we needed our own freaking website. :P) While I won't be posting an actual story for a couple of months, I plan to create my account soon. Anyway, my question is this: On FimFiction, should I change my username from IsabellaWinxSirenix, and if so, by how much? On the one hand, I know it will be easier for you guys to just remember one name instead of two, but on the other hand, this****_ is_**** the MLP fanfiction, so I might want to have my name a bit more... pony-ish. A poll is up on my profile for those who want to use it, and/or you can share your thoughts in the reviews.**

**Next week is a bit of an interlude to mark the halfway point in this story. And guess what it has. WordGirl characters! Yes, I'm finally getting WordGirl characters into this thing! And lo and behold, they're going to be... WordGirl and Tobey. Look forward to that on Wednesday!**

**Love to all,**

**Bella**


	13. Interlude: Words from the Heart

**Only a week of summer ****left ****before freshman orientation! ;( But on the bright side, I finally got a FimFiction account! On there, I'm IsabellaAmoreSirenix, so if any you out there are into MLP, look forward to stories on that site in the near future!**

**Reply to TLM:**

**As for Gigglecheeks... shh! I'm still trying to fit him into everything! :D And feel free to spam my review section anytime! (Hey, the higher the review count, the better.)**

** A big thank you to my godfather for editing this interlude!****  
**

* * *

Dear Tobey,

Perhaps this is not the best way to begin a letter, but I just have to say that this is certainly strange for me, writing a letter to you, and a civil one at that, given that you were a former nemesis of mine. Remember when you chastised my hostility when we were at Rosalie's home? Well, I thought you should know that I am working to refrain from bitter sarcasm. Yes, consider yourself proud.

Before you comment upon this, which I have no doubt you will, yes, I am writing this letter in long hand, and in calligraphy, no less. However, let me make it clear that this is not an attempt at romance. I just felt that after last month's events, you deserved a more personal message than me simply typing an email. Writing also provides me with enough time to fully ponder what and what not to say to you, for I know that, as always, you will use any method possible to twist my words into your own distorted interpretations.

Regardless, I just wanted to ask you how things are going in Meatropolis. I know it must be a huge adjustment for you, and I do hope the move is everything you dreamed. Since I haven't heard reports of any 50-foot robots invading the poor town yet, I will take that as a sign that things aren't going too terribly. In case you were curious, things are going well here in Fair City. You and your mother are greatly missed, more than anyone probably would have expected. I heard that Sally Botsford, the District Attorney, is starting to work later hours in light of your mother's absence and greatly misses her, both as a co-worker and friend. With your free-willed spirit, I doubt you'll listen to me, but if you don't mind, please pass this message along to your mother.

As for you, Tobey, you would be surprised to know that some students from your school have told me about how strange the place is in your absence. Maybe you don't consider that a compliment, given how you are constantly under the impression that everyone is of subordinate intelligence in comparison to your own (to which I highly disagree but know there is no way to dissuade you of this notion); however, if I were you, I would appreciate the fact that despite the trouble you caused here, there are people who saw the good in you.

And as for me, I am well. I am starting to believe the other villains are working extra hard to fill your gap in Fair City's never-ending schedule of crime, so, sadly, I am just as busy fighting crime than I ever was, perhaps even more so. I never would have believed it, and I know I will regret telling you this, as I am sure it will instantly go to your head, but your leaving has also made its mark on me. This city is scattered with ever-present reminders of you, and they give me a surprisingly nostalgic feeling whenever I look back upon them. I suppose, in a way, this counts as me missing you. I know, I would not have believed it either, but I supposethere is no use in me denying it.

Looking back, both on this letter as well as the conversation preceding our departure a month ago, I hope this letter does not encourage you to lose all your sanity and return to Fair City under the false notion that you can win my heart. Let me firmly dissuade youof this now, but if you do still return, know that I will exercise all my self-control and prudence to ensure that nothing beyond a friendly cordialness forms between us.

However, I will not lie and say that such a prospect does not hurt me. I am sure you know all the reasons, but we both know that a relationship is impossible, as your actions last month made very clear. However, I want you to know that in another life, one where we were stupid and far less noble, I would choose you every time. For reasons I cannot explain and do not wish to explore, I would cling tight to what we might have had and never let go, for I am not nearly as selfless as you are, Tobey. It took a special kind of admirable bravery, one I am far from mastering, to own up to your actions and let me go, and for that, I will always be grateful.

Again, I hope you and your mother are well, and I am eagerly awaiting, dreading, and curious to hear your response.

Sincerely,

WordGirl

P.S. If you thought your recent lack of villainy would cause me to reveal my secret identity, you are sadly mistaken.

* * *

Dear WordGirl,

It does not take much stretch of the imagination to think of my surprise when Mother went out today to collect the morning mail, only to return with a letter for me, addressed from you. Even more was my amazement when I actually opened the letter, dreading some sort of scolding reprimands for my… questionable displays of my genius while in Fair City, only to find a rather politely penned letter with some shrewdtraces of civility. You simply cannot get enough of me, can you, dear?

Still, let me tell you that there is no need for you to constantly barrage me with your… 'friendzoning,' as my dunderhead classmates would most likely refer to it. I knew perfectly well what I was agreeing to that night, and I wouldn't take back anything. Despite what you may think, I do have some semblance of maturity. I know where I went wrong, and I am doing my best to move past those mistakes.

As for my life in Meatropolis, while far from ideal, I suppose it is going as well as I could have reasonably hoped. The students are just as idiotic as my old ones (Of course they miss me: cheating offme is the only way they could hope to pass the grade!), and the city is slowly becoming bearable (although I plan on becoming a vegetarian just to spite them). I have not made any 'friends,' as my notorious reputation precedes me, not that I have need of them. With Mother working overtime in order to qualm the awful crime rate here, I have much more time on my hands to pursue my own interests.

As you pointed out, no, there have not been anyrampaging 50-foot robots running amok as of late, but don't fool yourself into believing I have stopped using my genius to create any more of my innovative automatons. It's just that lately, I have found myself enthralled with the more subtle complexities of robotic manufacturing. No longer am I cranking out legions of clunky, ineffectual pieces that can hardly serve as a testament to my true greatness; rather, I have been devoting myself to crafting perfection in tamer yet more proficient projects. For example, I recently finished the preliminary models for JenX073, a robot with fingers so dexterous that she can play any instrument when downloaded with a song file. She's perfect for getting out of piano practice! Not to mention the clones I've been working on…

With best wishes,

Tobey

P.S. 'Huggy will come by Friday afternoon to pick up your reply' is your return address? The poor ferret; maybe you should upgrade to a carrier pigeon. You are hard set on preserving your precious secret identity, aren't you? Although this kind of secrecy is rather interesting, I'll admit. **  
**

Dear Tobey,

Looking back upon my previous letter with a clearer mind, I realized to my dismay that I came off as coldhearted, brash, and rude. Forthis, I apologize and will do my best to explain the reasons for it. The coldheartedness probably stemmed from my formal language, which at firstI simply deluded myself into thinking was my Lexiconian powers becoming more apparent, but if I am being honest with myself and you, it was really an unconscious desire to separate myself from the words, which was the only way I would ever have the courage to tell you my true thoughts, leading to my brashness. I suppose it really is different, writing to you rather than speaking in person, and this has caused me to more freely speak my mind, including some rude remarks that normally would have been censored. For this, I am sorry, and I will attempt to do better in this letter.

I'm happy to know that you and your mother arecontent with your new life, and that you are putting your gifts to use in considerably more benevolent ways (although I find that mention of clones to be more than a little terrifying. I don't think the world can handle more than one Tobey!). I am also relieved that you seem to harbor no ill will towards me, as displayed in your mostly cordial letter. I guess you'd like to know more about my personal life, or at least, the parts I am not duty-bound to keep secret. I should have known that you wouldn't care about the sentiments of anyone else in Fair City, but I don't see any pressing reason to withhold mine. Here I go, but I warn you, there is probably much you will be less than happy to hear.

First off, I am doing my best to soak in the last joyous rays of summer freedom before I face the daunting prospect of high school, something I could hardly imagine a mere two years ago but since then has become an all too apparent reality. It's crazy how much time flies by without us realizing or appreciating it, and how it seems we only wish to prolong our own span of time to spend in laziness. Of course, this is only my own speculation as to how humans feel, as, in addition to other revelations, I have discovered I am immortal.

I have never admitted fear before, but I can honestly say that the prospect of immortality, of spending my entire life alone without any promise of relief, terrifies me. Lately, I've found myself screaming in the middle of the night, my mind branded with the image of my standing in a field of tombstones, with the names of all the people I've ever loved and will love etched in its cold stone. Your name was among them.

I haven't told Huggy about my fears yet, for I believe it would be terrible of me to burden him with my hardships when he is already so emotionally unstable. The loss of Planet Lexicon affected him much more than me, which was to be expected. While I am only pained with my now shattered hopes of what could have been had I remained on Lexicon as a child, Huggy is tortured with the complete loss of hopes much more real than mine: hopes of reuniting with family, finding a true loved one that cannot be found on Earth, and aiding his race in freeing themselves from – and I was appalled to discover this – slavery from humanoid Lexiconians. All those hopes have become impossibilities, leaving him with only painful memories of the life he once had but can never be attained **[attain] **again.

You would think that this hardship would cause our bond of friendship to strengthen with the added knowledge that we are now the last of our race, but sadly, this has not been the case. I have found Huggy to be spending increasingly more time alone at my spaceship hideout, oftentimes choosing to sleep there rather than with me. Our conversations have become short and terse, almost businesslike, and he has become ever more depressed and moody. At first, I believed that this behavior was nothing more than him dealing with the grief of losing his home planet, but now that enough time has passed, I know better. As much as it pains me, I believe the heart of our estrangement lies with me.

I believe he blames me for Lexicon's destruction. He thinks I should have done more, should have tried harder to save our planet. Whether or not this can be justified, I don't know. You should have seen his face when I arrived home and told him what happened. You would have thought I had stabbed him in the chest with a sword and twisted the blade, and in a metaphorical sense, I suppose I did. When I look into his eyes, I see a pain so raw and intense and fresh that I nearly fall to my knees in agony. I know nothing I could do could possibly be able to alleviate it, and I would probably only worsen it if I tried, so for the most part, I have tried to keep my distance. I do not know if his pain will pass, but one thing is for sure, we will never really be able to rekindle our friendship back to its former strength. Both of us are too far gone for that. I have lost my rock, my support in my darkest hours, my sense of reason, my companion when I stumbled along the path of being a hero, my solace in times of sorrow, my confidant and comforter when the burden of living a double life became too much for me to carry, my guardian who carried me away from that spaceship in the woods all those years ago and still sheltered me from all the hostilities of this world through his love, and most of all, my dearest friend, the only true friend I have ever really known. Without him, I am nothing; that, I am only beginning to realize. And what pains me most is that I know I will never be able to match all he has given me over these precious 14 years, even now, when he needs me the most. It is this loss that has caused me to seek comfort through someone else, which brings me to what will undoubtedly be the hardest part of my letter, both for you and me.

I assume you remember Todd Scoops Ming, the reporter whobrought you so much annoyance and strife during your time in Fair City. Perhaps, if you were subtle enough to notice – and knowing your perceptiveness, I have no doubt – I rather fancied him. Well, I feel that it is only right for you to know that my schoolgirl crush has evolved into a true and sincere relationship, with affection received both ways. I know of your selfsame affection for me once upon a time, and I know this will most likely be painful for you to hear. I also know that I am not within my rights to expect anymore of your valiant selflessness regarding this matter, but I believe it is only right to tell you if we are to stay in correspondence. However, I want to tell you that I am not foolish in pursuing this romance: I know of love and happiness, and both are real, true, and in endless abundance. There was one time when I desired him for superficial reasons, namely, his diligence, passion, and love of writing and words. And while these things are still true, they are only the surface of the endless sea that is my love. Over the past few months, this infatuation has been tempered from a sputtering, out-of-control spark into a constant and steady fire. I have seen other sides of him; I know his fears, his hopes, his dreams, and I love them all with a burning passion. Then there are these moments of indescribable bliss where for the most fleeting of seconds, I can feel his soul intertwine with my mine in harmony, and I catch a glimpse of Heaven. I fear nothing when I am with him, for he makes me feel indestructible when I fear I will shatter like fragile china. When I told him of my greatest secret, that of my true identity, there were no worries or doubts or second guesses. I would trust Scoops with my life.

Throughout my recent turmoil, Scoops has been nothing but a forever dependable rock for me to cling to. He understands me in the deepest yet simplest ways that I cannot hope to fathom. But most of all, Scoops has given me the greatest gift I could have ever hoped for: a sense of normalcy.

And this perhaps is the main difference between you and Scoops. As weak as it may sound to be a deciding factor in the affairs of love, I know I couldn't bear the scandal and humiliation from the paparazzi if word was leaked that I was… 'consorting' with the enemy. No matter what you and I may have done to negate that image, people's perceptions never change, especially when it comes to me. You must understand that I am held to an almost impossibly high standard, one where mistakes are not tolerated, the slightest errors magnified, and lapses in judgment downright forbidden. And as much as it pains me, I am all too eager to live up to this ideal if it means continuing the constant stream of praise Fair City bestows upon me. And yet, one of the main reasons I enjoy Scoops's company is that I have no expectations. To him, I am a person, whereas you saw me as an ideal chance for self-redemption at best and a trophy at worst. And while all of the above is true, I feel as though I am using his love more as a form of escapism than anything else. He feels he is using me for fame and celebrity, but is it any more despicable for me to use him to get the best of a life I shouldn't have? I am not saying that our relationship is founded upon this trade agreement, but I don't know how long it can last, either, nor do I know how I can go about approaching it. This is one of the many times words have failed me, yet they flourish for Scoops. I do not know whether or not he is aware of my plight, but somehow, he always manages to reassure me through the simplest of words: the silly ones, the serious ones, the hopeful ones, the beautiful ones, and the ones that are only for me.

But I have yet to speak to him of the words that weigh heavy on my own heart, those of immortality, of sorrow, of despair. For in addition to hiding my qualms about the… extra benefits of our relationship, I have also concealed the truth about myself. Scoops does not know I am immortal – I have barely come to terms with it myself – for I fear the truth might hurt him more than anything else. But at the same time, I know it wouldbe despicable to withhold it any longer. Would it be better for me to wait until he is crippled by the mortality of age for him to discover that I will remain forever young? I know I would be a monster for doing so, and yet I cannot bring myself to shatter the magic that accompanies young love.

Is it possible to have everything you ever wanted and hate yourself more than anything?

I await your quick response.

Sincerely,

WordGirl

* * *

Dear WordGirl,

Oh my, it's just like a girl to over-analyze these kinds of things. Rest assured that as a person expecting an onslaught of death threats in your first letter, there is little you can say or do to offend me.

Moving on to your letter, I lament that there is probably little I could say that would help alleviate your strife. I am not a sage, but I firmly believe that life only sends us challenges we can handle. So whatever you may face, whether it be immortality or a mourning monkey, I know you can take it head on. Honestly, WordGirl, if you can momentarily outwit the genius schemes of the brilliant Thedore McCallister the Third, there is virtually nothing in this world you can't overcome.

As to your boyfriend, well, I can't say I wasn't expecting it. I'm not blind, WordGirl; I can piece two and two together. I'm just glad to know he's finally stopped letting you pine after him like a lost puppy, opened his oblivious eyes to what should have been obvious the whole time, and givenyou the kind of respect Fair City's heroine deserves. And while I won't deny that the thought pains me, I suppose all I can do at this point is to simply come to terms with the inevitable. Despite what you may believe, I had maturity all those years, and I still possess it now.

What I truly believe I was lacking all those years was acceptance of my own faults and errors. I knew the approach I was taking would never work with you, no matter how many times I tried; after all, insanity is repeating the same thing twice but expecting different results. My persistence in the affair was as much driven by a struggle for power in my ineffectual life as much as a desire to gain love in any way I could.

I suppose the way it all began was with my father. As you most likely know, my father is no longer with us in the physical sense. He passed away when I was ten, killed in a car accident. But the part most striking to me was not the method of death, but how it ultimately came about.

Up until that point, my relationship between my father and I was… dysfunctional. While he once held a prestigious position as a doctor, the economy's recession from a few years back combined with a bad hand from Fate left him without a job. At that time, my mother was still a lawyer, but being the novice that she was at the time, it didn't pay too well. Thus, the financial aspects of our lives in Star City (which is where we lived before moving to Fair City) slowly deteriorated.

I am ashamed to say that this lack of employment very much damaged the way I viewed my father. Rooted with a deep sense of justice, I felt it unfair that Mother had to do all the work when it should have been split between them. This was especially difficult to bear since we lived in quite a wealthy neighborhood, and having fallen from that social class left me with the deepest shame.

And now, I have touched upon the physical and social aspects of my life at that time, but all of these are mere setups for the most driving force of all, emotion, and in particular, love. For this was a dysfunctional relationship formed not by hate, but by love, particularly the excess or lack thereof.

My father loved me dearly to a fault. It had been two years since he had been laid off, and he had all but given up hope of joining the working force once more. Now, Mother and I were all he had left. He treasured us above his own life.

I, on the other hand, couldn't take it. All the love in the world couldn't make up for all the shame and embarrassment he had caused me to feel around other people. It wouldn't take away all the bullies mocking me for my lack of money. It wouldn't get our old life back. I called him weak, saying that I wouldn't accept his love as a cop-out or as a tool to make me forgive him for failing our family. As if his love had been anything but genuine! Instead of our family coming together during these hard times, I pushed him away, only calling upon him when needed, and using his love for me to manipulate him into doing whatever I wanted, only to drive him away once more. I always took; I never gave. All I ever did was hate and take advantage of him.

Finally, there came a day when I told him that if he wasn't going to shape up and be a profitable member of this household, then he should just leave, never come back, and spare us all the trouble.

Then he got in the car and did just that.

…I'm sorry. I didn't intend to go on like that. Coming around full circle to address two major subjects of your letter, the point is that I know how you can be given everything and still despise yourself. I was given all the love in the world, but I couldn't accept it because I thought it was the wrong kind, as if you could ever compare love to the flavors at an ice cream parlor. And this is what I felt for quite some time as I came to terms with my father's passing: guilt for my own feelings. But when you came around, I thought you could change all that. Maybe if someone as awe-inspiringly good as you could find it in your heart to love me, then maybe you could also teach me how to love my father, and in turn, myself. At least, that was the least self-conceited reason. In short, I wanted to use you to appease my own troubled conscience. Whether it be success, normalcy, or redemption, no matter how noble we are, I suppose we all have something we'd rather place over love.

With affection,

Tobey

P.S. "For once, Huggy agrees with you. Leave this reply inside the hollowed tree marked with a red and yellow ribbon on the outskirts of the forest"? Now you're just playing with me, dear.

P.P.S. Ignore the drops of water on this letter; it was… raining on the way as I delivered it.

* * *

Dear Tobey,

I apologize in advance for how atrociously unreadable this letter will be, for as of right now, I am writing this in the pale glow of starlight, a rather ineffectual light source. I am sitting alone at the edge of a cliff overlooking Fair City, with two yawning chasms of darkness above and below me. Lately, I've found myself coming up here more and more, until it has almost become like a nocturnal ritual for me. I've been growing more and more distant from everyone, really. Ironically, they all feel so alien to me, and I just feel so out of sync with the world. Coming up here doesn't really help with this, but at least I can be in solitude.

I don't really know why I come up here when it makes me feel so empty. Maybe it's to gain some perspective on my life. I used to think that I was destined for greatness; now, I don't think I was meant for anything at all, at least not on this planet. How can you complete a puzzle when you come from an entirely different set?Looking up at the stars, knowing there are a billion planets in the cosmos that are teeming with life, I don't think I've ever felt so alone.

There are billions of stars in the sky; who know that taking away one ball of light could leave the universe in such darkness? I don't see light when I look up at the stars, only one vacant void where the center of my universe used to be. Lexicon is gone, I know, but every night, I come up here, hoping, praying that I'll find it nestled in the middle of that three-star constellation, giving me a glimmer of hope.

You may find it odd that I mourn my planet, especially when I've never intended to reside there permanently. It's just that all my life, I've become accustomed to the idea, the blind belief, that I could have quite literally the best of both worlds. That I could choose where my destiny would lie. Now that Lexicon is gone and the choice has been made for me, I've found myself wondering if there is anything in this life I really can control.

I remember when Huggy used to teach me how to write in Lexiconian. I was a little girl then, so eager to discover more about who I really was. After completing my school homework, we would fly to my spaceship hideout, and since these were the days before I became a crime-fighting superhero, we would go to the library room containing books about Lexiconian history and culture, and Huggy would explain the meaning behind the alien letters to me sentence by sentence for hours until it was time for dinner. We haven't touched those books in two years, but I remember that the Lexiconian symbol for greed is two crisscrossed lines with a slash in the middle.

I know what that means now. By trying to gain two things that were never really mine to begin with, I ended up with nothing.

Please, Tobey, don't respond to this letter. Don't write to me, either. I just… I can't bear it anymore. There are just things I need to deal with on my own.

Love,

WordGirl

P.S. I'm sorry if the ink is blurred in some places… it's raining here, too.

* * *

Dear Tobey,

I don't have much time. For the past twenty minutes, I've been packing and unpacking my bags in indecision, but now, I've finally made a resolute choice. I'm running away tonight, Tobey. There won't be any goodbyes, any explanations, because that'll just put everyone in more danger. I don't know where I'm going, but I have to get away. I'll probably be leaving the country, maybe even the continent. I know a hero shouldn't be running away in the face of danger, but I'm just too scared. I'm terrified, Tobey. No one knows that I'm leaving; it's safer that way. They can't escape, and I can't save them, so I figure the best thing to do is keep them as far away from me as possible. I'll stay away for days, weeks, years, even my entire life, whatever it takes to keep them safe. I know I won't be able to escape, no matter how far I run, but I have to try. Don't come after me, Tobey. You can't save me, so try to save yourself. There's no hope for me.

Planet Lexicon has reappeared in the sky.

A darkness is coming.

* * *

**As if there wasn't already enough stuff in this story, now I'm bringing back an entire planet. Hooray! This was surprisingly difficult for me to write, since I was experimenting with letters, a new medium for me. I know they sounded kind of formal, but I figured that since it's a letter, they'd have time to carefully think their thoughts through and make multiple drafts. But**** yeah, this was just a random thing for anyone wondering what's happening to WordGirl during all of this (and yes, I can promise that she'll have an important role in the end). Hope you liked it!**

**Chapter 12 will come next Wednesday!**

**Love to all,**

**Bella**


	14. The Tales in Between

**The first day of orientation! Proceed to freak out time! It's safe to say that I'm pretty nervous about all of this, down to panicking about whether or not the bus will come on time. :P Not to mention that I'm not really sure what freshman orientation _is. _I mean sure, it's going to involve having a tour of the school (which, by the way, I know I'll get hopelessly lost in for the first two months), but for three hours every day for three days? What are they going to _do_ to us? o_O Okay, everyone, if you don't hear from me within three days...**

**On a side note, now that the school year's starting, this chapter (and all chapters coming up) unfortunately lacks the wonderful editing skills of my godfather. Mistakes and grammar errors ahoy!**

* * *

_"That is a simply _wonderful _idea, Kerry."_

_ The Element of Hope was taken aback by such a positive response to her ludicrous proposition. "It is?"_

_ "But of course, my dear!" Daphne rejoiced, clapping her hands together in delight. "If you and the lovely Miss Syrena can convince an angel on Heaven's Council to lower the Consecration Barriers surrounding the Conclave of Lexicon long enough for the Enclave to enter, all our problems will be solved!"_

_ "But then… y-you actually think it's possible?" Kerry asked. "That we, two mortal girls, can just march straight up to the gates of Heaven and live to tell the tale?"_

_ "Well now," Daphne began in a deadly tone, her falsely motherly expression conveying none of the fallen angel's acclaimed compassion. "I never said anything about the second part, now did I?"_

With a great yawn, Kerry almost tumbled off the edge of her bed when she woke up. Jolted away by the near loss of gravity, she scrambled to cling to her bedsheets in an attempt to pull herself upright and reorient herself once more. With eyes still caked in sleep, Kerry blearily looked around the drab hotel room she had spent the night in, and by her count, this was the sixth one she had stayed in thus far on her expedition to locate the gates of Heaven.

Ugh, Kerry would never get over how utterly _stupid_ that sounded.

"It feels like I ran a marathon in my sleep or something," Kerry complained as she stretched. As she stood up, she noticed a rust red stain coating her silk nightgown. "Is that," she wondering, rubbing the mysterious substance in between her fingers, "blood?"

_It's just like those ashes in my bed six days ago, _Kerry pondered before sighing in exasperation._ I bet it was Syrena pranking me; she's always doing something stupid. Speaking of which…_

"Syrena?" Kerry called, upon noticing the adjacent bed was empty. "Syrena?"

Normally, a person would simply assume Syrena was in the bathroom, or downstairs getting breakfast, and indeed, that was what Kerry believed the first few nights they had spent on this quest. Now, of course, having repeated this routine often enough, Kerry made a beeline straight for the closet, where she found Syrena just as she had every morning, huddled in the corner and shaking, with her eyes wide open staring in fear at phantoms Kerry couldn't see.

With a groan of irritation, Kerry impatiently shook Syrena out of whatever horrible trance she had been dragged under.

"Come on, snap out of it, there's nothing there," Kerry said curtly, already turning away to ready herself for the journey ahead.

"I-I'm sorry…" Syrena cried, her shaking voice nearly inaudible. "It's just… the shadows…"

"Yes, I know all about the goddamn shadows!" Kerry yelled as she starting picking up the numerous reference guides and Bibles that littered the bed and floor, signs of her late night research. "Just pull yourself together so we can get a move on! We're in Kayseri now; we should be able to get to Sanliurfa, or at least Gaziantep, by nightfall."

Syrena wiped away her tears before getting up to help Kerry pack their bags and continue on to the next leg of their journey. Looking out from the balcony, the sun was just barely beginning to crest the horizon here in Turkey, but their sleep pattern had been so messed up that past week that the time was irrelevant to them.

Down in the main lobby, Syrena greeted the exhausted-looking attendant in Arabic (the ability to read people's thoughts as well as emotions had allowed Syrena to accumulate a vast knowledge of Turkey's culture) as Kerry signed out of the Almer Hotel before proceeding to the parking lot, where a shiny new Honda Civic, provided by the Enclave's funding, waited for them.

Syrena, being 16 and with a driver's license, hopped into the driver's seat, while Kerry, the book pressed to her face proving she was still knee-deep in research, took the shotgun. With the revving engine echoing all too loudly at this ungodly hour, Syrena backed out of the pile of cars squished together like sardines that was the Almer Hotel parking lot, and took off for the open road.

"So, how did your research go last night?" Syrena asked as she took a glance at the GPS, which had been an invaluable asset in navigating the winding streets of Kayseri.

"It was nothing we didn't already know," Kerry replied, setting her book down to rest her tired eyes. "Perhaps the Bible isn't the most reliable historical guide, but some of its certain truths have verified that we're heading in the right direction. I was able to confirm that our goal right now should be reaching Haran, which in present day, is the city of Sanliurfa. According to a passage in the Book of Genesis, on his way to Haran as he was fleeing from his brother, Esau, Jacob slept on a particular rock, and that night, his dreams were filled with visions of angels climbing up and down a ladder leading to Heaven."

"Does your Bible happen to say how we're going to find one little rock amidst an entire bustling city, a rock that has most likely eroded away in the past three thousand or so years?" Syrena replied sarcastically as she turned onto Kayseri Malatya Road. "Honestly, I don't see why we can't just go to Mount Sinai. I may not have done Religious Education as a kid, but I do know that's where all the people in movies go."

"But this isn't a movie!" Kerry cried angrily. "Besides, in a hypothetical case, we would only go to Mount Sinai if we wanted to speak to God directly. That's not our goal. We want to talk to an angel, and to do that, we have to go to Heaven."

"It _really_ says a lot about what we've been through that neither of us questions the absolute absurdity of that statement," Syrena remarked.

The next few hours were spent in silence as the two girls contemplated the gravity of that statement. It was true; this mission had caused a significant change in their mindset, a change that might never be able to be erased.

But the question was, was this change meant to be erased or embraced?

Lost in her thoughts, Kerry leaned her head against the window with a sigh. Something in Kerry's mind dimly registered that Syrena had turned on the radio. She listened without caring; after all, everything was spoken in Arabic, and Kerry doubted she would pay much attention even if it were in English. Kerry knew Syrena didn't care, either. She had just wanted an excuse not to speak, and Kerry was more than happy to oblige.

They were on the highway now, and during the inescapable force of nature known as morning rush hour, the road was jam packed with thousands of red and yellow blurs rushing along like scurrying ants. Kerry knew that each metal contraption harbored at least one person, and even then, there were still millions upon millions of people unseen upon this earth, but never before had she felt so disconnected and alone.

Many people would find this sensation akin to being stranded on a deserted island, but to Kerry, it was more like standing atop the highest mountain in the world and looking down upon the earth below, knowing that even if she made the dangerous trek down to reunite with them once more, a part of her would forever remain atop that peak, a part that was cold, reserved, and distant.

There had once been a time when Kerry had perfectly fit unto the grand puzzle, the grand scheme of the universe. She had known her place in the world, and she had been more than happy to fill that gaping space with her existence. Now, it was like someone had taken that puzzle piece, morphed it into something extraordinary, only to leave her wondering how to realign herself back into the puzzle of normalcy.

Kerry felt alone.

Syrena seemed to be feeling the exact same way, for she said aloud, "I just wish there was someone else with us."

Kerry couldn't agree more. There had been several suggestions of forming an Enclavian honor guard for them, but since neither Kerry nor Syrena wanted a repeat of the Rebecca incident, they both had refused every proposition.

"I don't know about that," Kerry said matter-of-factly, "I'm glad they're not here. It gives us the chance to run away."

"You… you know we can't do that," Syrena stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "We're bound to the Enclave by that freaky blood oath."

"So what?" Kerry demanded. "What's so terrible about breaking it, just this once?"

"I don't know. I just don't think it's like a normal oath. It has some power over us. I don't think it'll let us just walk away now."

"Then that's all the more reason to run away!" Kerry shouted, making Syrena feel awfully glad she had rolled the windows up. "They're controlling us, Syrena. They're getting inside our heads. We have to run now, before it's too late."

"Kerry, you're not making sense," Syrena said, using all her willpower to keep her mind focused on the road, "Please, just calm down…"

"Not until you listen to me!" Kerry screamed.

"Please… please don't shout at me, Kerry," Syrena cried. "You know that brings the shadows to me. I can't take it anymore."

Kerry tilted her head to look at Syrena curiously. Ever since she started mentioning the shadows, she had become quieter, more subdued. All her former strength of will had been snapped like a twig, leaving her submissive and prone to sadness. She had stopped making weak puns about Turkey in favor of sitting alone, sometimes for hours at a time, her eyes filled with despair as whatever demons that haunted her began to hollow her being from the inside out. Kerry knew there was something seriously wrong with her, but she didn't address it. She couldn't bear the thought of having to deal with yet another catastrophe when her entire world was tearing at the seams. So she continued to push these thoughts to the back of her mind, as she did now in her retaliation.

"I don't care about the shadows!" Kerry screamed as something deep within her finally snapped. "I… I don't want this anymore! It's hopeless! I… I've been trying to keep a brave face, been trying to keep us going. I've been looking, looking for a reason to go on, but I think we've been deluding ourselves all along. We can't save the world, so let's leave it to someone else! Please, Syrena, just turn around!"

"Kerry," Syrena sobbed in hysteria, just barely avoiding a collision for the fourth time in her anguish, "I don't know what you're talking about—"

"My God, just let me drive!" Kerry yelled as she grabbed hold of the steering wheel.

"No, what are you doing, stop—"

But it was too late. Kerry had jerked the wheel too sharply, and the car was sent skidding across two lanes, leaving at least five battered vehicles in their wake.

Before Syrena could fully register what was happening, suddenly, her thoughts were abruptly cut off by a giant white balloon that slammed into her face with the force of a punch. She felt a potent stinging on her left cheek, but other than that, there was no pain, just a bout of confusion. White powder like flakes of snow caught like fire in her throat, and she coughed from the horrid fumes. Looking up past the deployed air bags, Syrena was momentarily blinded by the glare of headlights, followed by a symphony of blaring car horns. Her mind wiped blank in panic, Syrena just screamed as her hands desperately clung to the steering wheel until her knuckles were a chalky white.

Then, there was the sound of grinding metal, followed by a painfully sharp jolt of impact, and before she knew it, all previous sense of gravity had been irradiated as the car was sent hurling over the edge of the metal barrier and into the ditch below, where the totaled car lay, upside down and motionless.

Dimly, Syrena was aware of Kerry screaming for her to get out of the car. Due to being upside-down, blood started rushing to Syrena's head, making an already challenging task all the more difficult through this additional dizziness. Eventually though, she was able to locate and unbuckle her seatbelt, the only thing that had saved her from bashing her head against the ceiling in the crash. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that the engine had caught flame, and the scorching tendrils were rapidly snaking their way towards her. Thankfully though, she just managed to pry open the car door and stumble out into the fresh, cool air.

"K-Kerry?" Syrena called weakly, her mind still dazed and confused. "Oh my God, Kerry! KERRY!"

But the girl in question could not hear her, for she was trapped within a dream within a fire within the car. And it was this dream (or more appropriately, a memory), that held her spellbound and oblivious to the whole world, until the very center of her conscious being had become holding out just a minute, a second longer, to see this hidden story unfold, not caring about Syrena or the advancing fire or her own life, but rather a far more compelling yet terrible force: a thirst for the truth.

_A stone chamber… a match flickering in her hand… a desire to burn, to destroy, to purge the world of a horrid abomination…_

_ Blending with the shadows… screams and cries of terrified victims… the hissing, sputtering fire whispering secrets with such a forbidden allure that it was almost impossible to turn away…_

_ A girl (No! A monster! The Devil with an angel's face!) collapsing as flames clung to her body like manacles… fly, fly away, leave this place as sky and earth melt into one blaze of red._

_ And finally, a flash of gold wings and a goddess' face, imparting her final words before leaving them to the darkness:_

_ "You must remember nothing of what has happened this day."_

With a gasp like a swimmer rising for breath, Kerry came around to reality, only to notice with alarm the advancing fire. Not having any time to process the events that had or hadn't flashed before her eyes, Kerry, with more force than she had previously believed she possessed, kicked the car door down to stagger like a drunkard to safety. She came around the other side of the car, and upon seeing a frantically calling Syrena, they both hugged in relief, only to then have a wave of dizziness send them both collapsing to the ground.

"What the _hell_ do you two think you're doing here?!" demanded a stern voice above them.

Kerry and Syrena both looked up, bracing themselves to come face-to-face with the wrath of a Turkish officer, only to be met with an even more unexpected yet terrifying surprise.

"Mulan?"

* * *

6 Hours Earlier

Countryside of Palermo, Italy

"I assume you've heard the news, then?" Homura asked, wasting no time as she manifested from a blaze of fiery shadows.

"How could I not?" Mulan replied. "It's all anyone's been talking about. That someone infiltrated the Conclave of Lexicon – on the day of the International Summit of Project Sion, no less – and, for all intents and purposes, decimated all of Project Sion and all of its research. There's no hope for its resurrection now, not this late in the game. People are already discussing when, not if, the Enclave will launch an attack on the Conclave of Lexicon."

"Yes, yes," Homura said, impatiently brushing aside the mention of the possible climax of a centuries-long war, "but the important thing is, have you spoken to anyone else about the_ truth_?"

"Well, seeing as I've only just discovered the truth, I've hardly had the proper time to reveal it, now have I?"

"Really?" Homura remarked, raising her eyebrows in surprise. "I would have thought that someone of your intelligence and knowledge would have pieced it together much sooner."

"Well, to be fair, this is the first timeline that's had anything like this happen," Mulan reminded Homura defensively, "which eventually led me to believe that the Elements, the variable in this timeline, were the cause of it. And since Jenny still remains ignorant of all this…"

"It must have been the Element of Hope or Light," Homura finished, impressed with Mulan's findings.

"Or both," the fallen angel added.

"But of their own free will?"

"And this is the one problem that led me to disregard the possibility at first," Mulan said. "I don't believe Kerry or Syrena would do something like this voluntarily, which leads me to believe they are being controlled against their free will."

"By what methods?" Homura questioned, growing far more intrigued as the conversation progressed. "Unless you believe the Enclave is also choosing to employ Assimilation—"

"No," Mulan stated firmly. "I believe they are under a blood oath. It's more of Daphne's style. It would be all too easy to trick them into accepting."

"Well then," Homura began, momentarily taken aback by this news. "What do you intend to do about it?"

"I'm going to find them," Mulan declared, her voice firm in resolve. "Technically, I am part of the Enclave, which means that if I can't stop them, I can at least try to command them to disregard Daphne's orders if any jeprodize their safety, which I'm sure they will."

"In short, you're going to play hero again."

"Yes, I am," Mulan said tersely. "I'm going to save them."

"Really," Homura said, smiling knowingly, as if a cruel joke was about to pay off. "Because it seems to me that the more you try to save someone, the further you condemn them."

"We're not just talking about the Elements anymore, are we?" Mulan began slowly, choosing her words carefully as her bright blue eyes pierced Homura's obsidian ones with precise calculation in an attempt to divine her underlying meaning. "What are you trying to tell me?"

"Mulan, the Angel of Time and Parallel Dimensions," Homura began, with the air of one retelling a grand folk tale of old. "You have repeated this one century countless times in multiple worlds, changing the possibilities of the past and looking for the conclusion you wanted."

Mulan remained silent, all the while hiding a morbid curiosity beneath that stony expression of indifference.

"Your existence answered one question," she continued, "Why Lucia Manette has such immense power and influence in this world. Now, I can form a satisfactory hypothesis."

When she remained uninterrupted, she continued once more. "Have you ever questioned how Lucia, who at one point early on in your time-travelling, once led a small cult of halflings that worked for centuries to seize control of just one country, is now on the precipice of world domination? Indeed, I have. It was incomprehensible to me why Lucia, a single person, had the power to be on the verge of controlling an entire planet almost single-handedly.

"But, Mulan…

"Could it be that she has this great power concentrated around her thanks to you repeating time over and over?"

Mulan's eyes widened, but she still didn't dare to speak.

"I thought so," Homura remarked sagely. "You were the reason. Or rather, the repeated use of your time manipulation was."

"What do you mean?" demanded Mulan, finally finding her tongue once more.

With a smirk, Homura was more than happy to oblige. "In order to prevent creating a paradox, when one rolls back time, they do not alter the events of this timeline, but rather create an alternate parallel universe. You rolled back time for one reason: To save Lucia Manette. While you relived the same timeframe with the same purpose again and again, you wound together numerous parallel universes, all centered around the existence of Lucia Manette. As a result, the fate lines of all those worlds that were never supposed to interact are now focused on Lucia. You have warped the fabric of time and space, causing this very world to bend to her will, making her the center around which everything else revolves. By accepting that, we discover the origin of her immense power as leader of the Conclave of Lexicon. All the fate lines from the timelines you lived through are now wound tightly around Lucia, giving her enough power and influence over this world to bring it to its knees. _That_ is the present situation."

At that moment, the fallen angel would have considered her death nothing less than a miracle of the utmost mercy.

"Congratulations, Mulan," Homura praised with a wicked gleam. "You've raised Lucia to become the destroyer of the world."

* * *

"M-Mulan?" Kerry spluttered. "What are you doing here?"

"That is irrelevant at the moment," Mulan stated in a cold tone of officiality as she only bothered to give the two car crash victims a quick sweep over for major injuries before turning away. "What is important is that I know what you're doing here. You seek the stone that leads to Jacob's Ladder. I can help you."

"You can?" asked Syrena, her interest peaked. "You know where it is?"

"No, but I can still help you achieve the end result. Follow me."

Kerry and Syrena nervously glanced around, first at each other, and then at the site of the metal wreckage that no longer deserved to be called a car, with all the major internal parts that weren't already ashes strewn on the ground like spilled organs.

"Hurry up," Mulan snapped impatiently, waving them forward. "You're going to attract a crowd."

Not knowing what else to do, Kerry and Syrena came to a silent consensus and fell into step behind her. The fallen angel's cloak of starlight fluttered around her like a second pair of wings in the crisp dusk breeze, causing it to billow around her like a sail of a ship. And indeed, she was much like a ship, with the waves of unkempt grass receding before the stern, unflinching prow, with Kerry and Syrena buffeted around in her wake.

"But what about the people we crashed into?" Syrena asked once she had worked up the courage to approach this hardened figure. "We can't just leave them. They could be hurt, or worse…"

"They're not," Mulan stated, quickly brushing her concerns aside. "At least, I highly doubt it. They've never been before, and my God, I hope the universe will still retain some consistency in that regard."

This cryptic statement left the two girls all the more dumbfounded and uneasy. Too frightened to pose any more questions, the trio remained silent as they traversed the grassy plain bordering the highway for some time, until Kerry proposed an idea.

"You said we should get there as soon as possible, right? Well, maybe we'd be faster with four legs instead of two," Kerry said, referring to their transformations into a wolf and winged unicorn respectively.

At this, Mulan suddenly stopped, only to whirl around in a tornado of silk and silver stars to face them. Stray locks of ebony hair flittered about her face like shadowy wraiths as she inspected them with a most peculiar look, haughty yet pensive.

"Go ahead, then," she said in a strange tone of voice. "Transform."

Kerry and Syrena closed their eyes in concentration, waiting for the now accustomed sensation of a tingling web of pure energy engulfing their bodies. And indeed, it did come, but only as a lingering spark, sputtering out all too quickly like a dying engine before fading completely, leaving them looking lost and confused.

"An anticipated result," Mulan said with the air of a scientist recording a particularly uninteresting observation of an experiment. "You can't fully tap into your powers anymore."

"Huh?" Kerry asked. "But why?"

It was Mulan's turn to look confused. "I would have thought it to be obvious to the Elements of Hope and Light. Tell me, have either of you felt particularly in tune with your elements as of late?"

A weighty silence was all the answer Mulan needed.

"What good is joy when all it does is make one all the more receptive to the sorrow around them?" the fallen angel wondered aloud, no longer looking at them, but at the stars above, almost with a sense of beseeching. "Or hope in a world where fate is set in stone?" She sighed. "If goodness is truly lost in this world, what use is there in fighting?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Syrena said. "No one ever said anything about goodness being lost and all that. We're… we're still the Symbols of Beauty!"

But not even Syrena could deny her weak conviction. "You say that you are, but you don't mean it. Words don't matter in these types of affairs, and giving yourself a title like that won't change things. As if you could ever claim that hope and joy was your birthright, like a vault of gold or a precious diamond hoarded away as a means of setting yourself above others. You should know better than anyone that beauty in word and heart is what leads to true goodness."

But goodness isn't lost!" Kerry cried desperately. "All books end with happy endings; surely, this story will have one, too… won't it?" In her grief, the last two words came out hopelessly strangled, as if someone had stuck a fishingpole down her throat to yank the words out.

Titling her head upward in a gesture of superiority (or perhaps enlisting gravity to keep the wall of tears building up behind her eyes from breaking), Mulan said emotionlessly, "Many tales tell of goodness triumphing over evil, but just as many seem to so conveniently brush aside the tales in between that made evil such a potent force to begin with."

"So… what does that _mean_?" Syrena asked, already dreading the answer.

Up ahead, the sprawling city of Sanliurfa loomed through a think blanket of trees. It lay silent wait in the valley, so filled with promise and uncertainty. That one town could hold the key to all their problems, or the final sentence in their condemnation. And while most people would want to make the decision to proceed forward or turn back screaming, Kerry and Syrena desired nothing more than to sink into the very ground where they stood, into the very core of the earth, and never make the decision at all.

"We'll soon find out, won't we?"

* * *

**Because ending on such a vague and ominous note isn't cliche at all...**

**After an entire twelve chapters, I finally slipped the name of the title into the story. Hooray!**

**Meh, this was a short chapter to tide over into next week. Chapter 13, "A Thousand and One Doors," comes next Wednesday!**

_Jenny paused for a moment as she let the words of her mother, her dear sweet mother, sink in before asking, "Do you… do you ever regret it? Opening those books and shutting yourself off from the rest of the world?"_

_ "Many times," her mother lamented. "Knowledge – the truth – is much like a key in my opinion. With it, you can open a thousand doors of understanding, but open one too many, and you'll discover something about the world or yourself that was best kept secret. As much as I treasure my knowledge in the scientific field, there are times when I wish more than anything to just close the books and simply know nothing at all."_

**Sheesh! It's about time I got parents involved in Jenny's crisis!**

**Also, to any readers who are fans of the show My Little Pony, I've posted my first MLP fanfic! It's called "Hide and Seek," and is a sad Applejack one-shot, so if that kind of story's your thing, go check it out and show it some love!**

**Love to all,**

**Bella **


	15. A Thousand and One Doors

**Why does high school have to be so hard?! The classes aside, just getting to them is difficult enough! The worst is going from Biology Honors (which, by the way, I've discovered has college-level material o_O) to Health class, where I have to sprint down four floors in the new building, run through the gym, enter the old building, and go to the basement level. All in the span of less than five minutes. :( But anyway, here's Chapter 13!**

* * *

"Ew, look, it's _her_ again."

"The nutcase freak!"

"I bet she talks to ghosts and all that messed up stuff."

"I don't know about you, but ever since I heard about it, I've always made sure to double-lock my front door and all the windows when I come home. It's really kind of terrifying."

"I know, right? She even scared off her own pathetic excuse for friends."

"A crazy person like her shouldn't be allowed anywhere near St. Francis!"

"They surely can't expect her to _stay_ here, can they?"

"I heard that they're going to lock her up in some insane asylum or something."

"They better. After all, everyone knows she doesn't belong here."

These words echoed through the hallways as Jenny walked by until the air was so full of whispering that it sounded like one hissing kettle spraying a stream of insults and wild rumors at the poor girl. Jenny's sunken eyes cast the occasional glance at a gossiping huddle, causing them to instantly go silent in fear, but other than that, she kept to herself.

_Come on, Jenny, _she coached herself, just as she had done everyday since the news of her new status as a mental health patient had been leaked. _Just get to the door. Just get to the door, and everything will be fine._

Jenny gritted her teeth, kept her head bent, and clutched her books even tighter to her chest, as if they could deflect the awful words being thrown at her. Her entire posture suggested that of someone marching into a great and terrible battle.

One she was destined to lose.

The past two weeks had not been kind to Jenny. Ever since word had spread about her mental instability, every day had felt like an impossible challenge. She couldn't sleep anymore, not without taking sleeping pills, for even if she did manage to purge her mind of the ever-repeating torrent of that day's rumors and insults, all sleep brought her was nightmares, horrible ones filled with silent, faceless sentries that turned to leave her one by one until she was alone once more. She barely ate, only really bothering to take prescribed anti-depressant pills that never seemed to do much anyway, and in fact only succeeded into throwing her stormy personality even more out of shape.

The worst part was that she never seemed to _do _anything. Sure, she would go home, do her homework, read, watch TV and all that, but it was all robotic, mechanic. It wouldn't have made any difference to her if she simply lay on the bed aimlessly instead, for it all felt the same to her. She was simply walking through life, doing the motions to keep up appearances, nothing more.

_I think I was lost a long time ago._

Jenny only dared to glance up half a millimeter when the doorway came near. _Come on, you're almost there, _she thought to herself, those few steps seeming to require more exertion than running a marathon. _Just one more step…_

"Jennifer Swan," called a strict voice behind her. "I would like to see you for a moment, please."

Jenny's blood went ice cold, just as it had two weeks ago outside the nightclub, and both times were caused by the same person. Rejecting the sweet freedom of outside, Jenny turned around to see none other than her algebra teacher, Miss Eldridge, beckoning impatiently while the students watched on, some with satisfied smirks on their faces.

"Come with me."

* * *

"I would like an explanation for this, please," Miss Eldridge demanded.

Jenny looked down at the piece of paper bearing a glaringly red F, only to turn away in shame, glad that no one could see them in the privacy of the locked classroom.

"I'm sorry," Jenny mumbled. "I'll do better next time."

"But you haven't done better," Miss Eldridge said in a tone that was less upbraiding and more concerned than anything else. "This is the second test you've failed this month, and that's to say nothing of your assignments. I don't expect stellar work from you, Jenny, but a B student doesn't suddenly drop to F's for no reason at all. Is something the matter, Jenny?"

"With all due respect, Miss Eldridge," Jenny began coldly, "I think that if you overhear one conversation in the halls today or any other day, you'll know perfectly well what the problem is."

"Yes, I know all about the rumors," Miss Eldridge began with such sympathy that it reminded Jenny that she too was a victim of vicious gossip. "And I know how much they hurt. But I believe you're stronger than that." She sighed. "I don't want to punish you, Jennifer. I just want an explanation."

"Well, you seemed just fine with punishing me two weeks ago!" Jenny burst out angrily. "Really? I was stuck with a two-week probation, while Nicole and Tess don't get any?"

"You know perfectly well that Tess was in the hospital all that week having open heart surgery," Miss Eldridge explained. "Nicole and Tess are both going through difficult times—"

"And I'm not?!" Jenny cried.

"And besides," she continued as if without interruption, "I expected better of you, Jennifer."

"Why?! Why am I supposed to be better, be stronger than everyone else?"

"Maybe you're not stronger than everyone else, but you have to be anyway, for all of us," her teacher said, with an air that told Jenny they weren't just talking about high school bullies anymore. "The world will strike you down, Jenny. They will attack you and hurt you and infect you with lies, all without mercy. They'll say you're stupid, worthless, but you mustn't listen to them. You can't give in. People say that life only sends you problems you can handle, and if it seems like you can't, then there's something about yourself that you need to change. Be that change, Jenny. You may not be able to see it now, but you need to keeping fighting."

"But what for?" Jenny asked. "What am I fighting for?"

"Well, that's for you to find out."

* * *

"Hey!" Jenny called, rushing out the doors and into the brightly light campus grounds, where the last dregs of stragglers remained. "Nicole, Tess, wait up!"

The two girls in question spun to face her, only not with expressions of excitement, but revulsion.

"Ugh, _you_ again?" Nicole asked, putting her hands on her hips as she surveyed Jenny in disgust. "Would you just take the hint and leave us alone already?"

"I-I'm sorry," Jenny said, casting her eyes downward in shame, already used to the routine. "But please… just let me tag along today, okay? I promise I won't be a bother."

"Oh fine," Tess snapped as she rolled her eyes. "If it'll make you quit your whining, you can come with us."

Jenny's face instantly burst into relief, the closest thing she got to happiness these days. "Oh, thank you, thank you," she cried as she fell into step with the two sisters. "It's just that I don't really have anyone else to go with, and you're the only friends I have—"

"Yeah, because you're completely pathetic, Jenny," Nicole cut in. "You should consider it a blessing that we even let you be seen with us."

"Oh, I do, I do," Jenny said with enough sincerity that it would arouse pity for any spectator. They kept walking further, until Nicole and Tess signaled to turn and pass through a shadowy alleyway.

"So, where are we going today?" Jenny asked excitedly. "The nightclub? Or do you want to just hang out in the park? I've stashed some beer in my backpack, just like you asked—"

"Actually, Jenny," Tess began coldly, whirling around to face her, "we're not going to be hanging out at all today."

Jenny stumbled. "What do you mean? Oh, is it because of a surgery or something? I'm so sorry, I didn't know—"

"Oh my gosh, listen to her," Nicole scoffed. "She can't even tell rejection when she sees it. What use will such an idiot amount to in society?"

"Exactly. Tell me, Jenny," Tess began, her words digging into Jenny like icy knives. "Do you have any dreams?"

"Um, y-yes, I do," stammered Jenny, not knowing what else to say. "I… I know it sounds silly, but when I grow up, I… I'd like to be an artist. A fabulous painter, and my artwork would be displayed in galleries—"

"Well, forget about it then!" Nicole demanded. "You know that's something you'll never be able to do. Your dreams are as good as dead. You want to be remembered in this world? Well, look around you! Everyone hates you, Jenny. What makes you think that you'll be special, or that people will look up to you? When you die, no one's going to remember you. People only remember the ones they love."

"But people do love me! My parents—"

"Are being constantly held back by you!" Nicole cried. "They could achieve so much more greatness if you weren't there to hold them back. They've sacrificed so much of their dreams for you, and you repay them by being nothing but a burden."

Jenny felt like her words had been sharp enough knives to carve out her knees and send her tumbling to the ground. "Why?" she sobbed, burying her face in her hands. "Why are you saying these things to me?"

"Because they need to be said," Tess declared. "Really, they should have been said a long time ago. You've gone too long without seeing the truth that really, we're doing you a favor. This world doesn't need you, Jenny, and neither do we. You aren't loved, you aren't needed, and you have no purpose. Why bother living at all?"

"P-please," Jenny gasped, now weeping at their knees. "Please don't leave me. I… I thought I could be strong by myself… but everyone's gone now… you're all I have left… please… don't go." In her agitation, her pleads grew louder, until she was shrieked like a strangled banshee. "Don't go! Don't leave me all alone again! _Please! PLEASE!_"

But all the two merciless sisters had as parting words was, "You really are worthless, Jenny."

_Maybe they're right, _Jenny thought as she lay prone on the ground, the verbal onslaught of attacks weakening her more than any physical wounds could.

_I really am worthless._

* * *

"You really are a monster, you know that?"

From out of the shadows came Mrs. Greene, chuckling slightly at the insult. "Oh, not by any means, Edith. I was simply telling her what the world dictates she should believe."

"You lied and manipulated her, Julianne," Miss Eldridge – Edith – said with a deadly hiss. "It was only with deceit that you managed to break the poor girl so badly. The Conclave of Lexicon really has sunken low if Lucia lets her puppets cheat at her own game."

"Well, you didn't seem to care too much about that," Julianne mocked as the two began to tread in a circle around each other in the darkened alleyway chosen as their meeting point. Their eyes were narrowed into slits as they kept their gaze permanently trained on one other, calculating their every step, except for Julianne, who occasionally took a brief glance at some unidentified sight from above. "Really, all the support the Enclave can give the Element of Love is a half-hearted pep talk at last minute?"

"I was following orders," Edith said, gritting her teeth, with her bronze wings were fully flared in a menacing pose. "I was simply to be her Guardian, nothing more. I was not supposed to make the choices for her, only intervene when necessary."

At this, Julianne burst into raucous laughter. "That seems awfully idiosyncratic for the Fallen Angel of Right Judgment. Then again, I always thought Heaven was too passive."

"But that's besides the point," Julianne continued, breaking the circular tread they had both been maintaining to march directly up to the fallen angel. Edith held her ground, staring into Julianne's eyes with righteous fury. "What matters is that I've won, and you've lost. The Element of Love is mine."

"You can't win against her," Edith said. "She's too strong for that. She will prevail, for her, for the sake of us all."

"Hmm," Julianne said thoughtfully, her mouth perked up in a wicked smile, her eyes alight with malicious trickery. "Would you bet your life on that?"

"Yes."

"Very well, then," declared Julianne as she stood just inches from the fallen angel. Her breath tickled Edith's throat as she leaned down to whisper with a hiss, "Off with your head."

To Edith's surprise, the attack came not from Julianne, but from two unknown assailants from behind.

She didn't even have time to scream.

"Well done, ladies," Julianne applauded.

"We could have taken her head on, you know," Nicole complained as she impatiently kicked the corpse to the side.

"There's no honor in killing her this way," Tess added, sullen.

"Honor is a luxury we don't have," Julianne said. "It's like exterminating a bug. We got the job done; that's all we needed. Now, did you do as I asked?"

"Yes," Tess replied, albeit with a hint of saddened remorse. "Two weeks ago, we altered both of her parents' memories with the serum you provided. Now, no one knows the truth aShe's broken, I'm sure. But do you… do you think it's time?"

"Oh, yes, absolutely!" Julianne exclaimed delightedly, her face adorned with the merriment of a child. With a flourish, she spun in a circle as if it was a spotlight, and for a moment, Tess had the mental image of watching an actress on Broadway. Then, upon noticing Nicole and Tess's downcast expressions, she added, "Don't worry, darlings! There will be plenty of fights for you, I'm sure. Ah, the sweet smell of war is coming! Can't you sense it?" There then came a laugh that sound less like the innocent, endearing giggle its owner intended, and more like a maniacal cackle. "It's going to be fun taking over the world with you!"

Ignoring Nicole and Tess's horrified expressions, she waltzed off, leaving nothing but a single bloody squelch in her silent wake.

* * *

When presented with a scenario such as this, most stories would depict the weather as being dark and dreary, with thundering deluges of rain wreaking havoc across the sky, to reflect Jenny's current melancholy spirit. Other slightly more original tales would describe a setting where the sun was shining with cheerful ambiance, as if to make a mockery of Jenny's sorrow. However, both of these are terribly cliché, so the world in all its vastness of originality simply opted to have the weather that afternoon be slightly chilly, with swirling grey skies to match the filth of the melting and slushy remnants of snow in that area. It was just as it would have been any other day, even without the crushing of one girl's spirit. As she was trudging home, Jenny figured gloomily that the weather must currently be serving as the backdrop for some other, more important girl's tale of tragedy. For it had been made perfectly clear that the universe didn't care about what happened in the story of Jennifer Swan. No one did.

These were all things Jenny contemplated now, as she sat in one of the many chairs strewn about the parlor, which was far too adorned in floral patterns and lace for Jenny to find quaint. Occupying the opposite chair was her mother, daintily sipping a cup of tea as she waited for Jenny to begin.

Jenny's mom was a peculiar person. While she had rare moments of self-righteous anger, like when Jenny was caught at the nightclub, most of the time, she was quiet and reserved. Many times, it seemed to Jenny as if her mother was half in a dream as she flitted in and out of focus around other people. Jenny often compared her to a plant with shallow roots, never fully grounded in reality, except for in her work, with which she was then transformed into a woman of resolute purpose and drive, and without seemed to always be a little lost and confused. And yet, her ditzy characteristics aside, Jenny could never fully describe her mother without mentioning her eyes. Those eyes, those soft blue eyes, seemed to shine sapphire with a piercing perceptiveness that felt otherworldly. While Jenny's mother may easily dismiss the trivial aspects of other people, she somehow always remained receptive to what mattered the most. Jenny could never tell a lie will looking into those eyes (despite many years of futile attempts), for her mother would easily pick up on the fib within the first word.

But that was fine. Jenny didn't intend on telling any lies today. In fact, this might be the first time she would actually come clean with her true feelings.

Deciding that she shouldn't delay this any longer, Jenny took a deep breath, set her teacup down, and began politely, "Thank you for meeting with me, Mother. I know you must be very busy."

"Oh, it's fine, Jennifer," her mother remarked. She had never called her daughter Jenny before, claiming she deserved a much more dignified name. "After all, it is quite nice to get together for tea once in a while, just like when your two charming friends came over for tea two weeks ago. Sadly, it's a custom that's tragically grown less and less frequent. I suppose life rushes by a bit too fast for such pleasantries. And besides, I appreciate the time I can spend with you."

"To be honest, I've been quite worried about you, Jennifer," she added as an afterthought.

This took Jenny aback. "You have? Why?"

"Well," she began, her voice sounding as delicate as the china cup cradled in her hands, "you've just been so quiet lately, so reserved. You didn't use to act this way. I'm not admonishing you, Jennifer," she added in response to Jenny's downcast expression. "It's just… you remind me of how I used to be as a child."

"Really?" Jenny asked, thinking there couldn't possibly be anything in common between herself and her genius mother. "How?"

Gently sitting her cup down, Jenny's mother folded her hands in her lap and sighed. "When I was a young girl, I had – and probably still do – a rather… strange outlook on life. I hardly spoke to anyone, but I listened, and probably heard more than most people would be comfortable with. From there, I began to construct my ideas about what people were like – their thoughts, their emotions, all of it. And then, one day I decided I just didn't really like people all too much."

"Just like that?" Jenny asked.

"Yes, just as simply as declaring a distaste for spinach or a TV show. Now mind you, I didn't despise them, and in fact, I found them quite fascinating at times. I just found them too complex and confusing to keep up with. And so, I separated myself from people entirely, and instead poured myself into reading and studying. To me, books were much simpler, much easier to understand, with some even coming with an index to assist you if you ever got lost along the way. I would spend hours upon hours of time alone, which I admit wasn't very mentally or physically healthy for me. But I enjoyed solitude, the chance for self-contemplation and to be alone with my own thoughts. It never once occurred to me that as much as you may love a book, or a word, or an idea, they can never love you back."

At this, Jenny's mom paused and turned away, most likely to wipe away a stray tear from her eyes. "I remember," she started up again, looking out the window with the air of one's thoughts being very far away, "looking down at the street from the attic window in your grandmother's house. It was so high up, probably four stories, the rickety old thing. I was looking down and watching two little boys riding bikes together. Even from way up high, I could see them smiling and laughing and… and then it hit me. I wasn't living life, not really. I was on the outside looking in. It was only until I met your father and had you that things really started to change. I… I don't want you to be like that, Jennifer. People say you should find your purpose, but I sometimes wonder if it's more important to find your life."

Jenny paused for a moment as she let the words of her mother, her dear sweet mother, sink in before asking, "Do you… do you ever regret it? Opening those books and shutting yourself off from the rest of the world?"

"Many times," her mother lamented. "Knowledge – the truth – is much like a key in my opinion. With it, you can open a thousand doors of understanding, but open one too many, and you'll discover something about the world or yourself that was best kept secret. As much as I treasure my knowledge in the scientific field, there are times when I wish more than anything to just close the books and simply know nothing at all."

"But I apologize," Jenny's mother said in a falsely cheerful tone. "This conversation is about you, not me. Now tell me, what question is on your mind?"

To be honest, there were thousands upon thousands of questions Jenny would have given her right hand to learn the answers, but with her mother's foreboding words still fresh in her mind, she decided that most of them were impossible to answer, and even more were better off without having an answer at all. It was for this reason that Jenny chose the simplest and yet most complex question, the one that Jenny already knew the answer to in her heart, but couldn't bring herself to say.

"If there was something, just _one thing _you needed to move on with your life… and you tried _every_ _way_ that was fair and honest to do so, and nothing worked… is it really so wrong to bend the rules and do the unthinkable just this once?"

"Well, that depends," Jenny's mother began sagely, pursing her lips in thought as her sapphire eyes surveyed her daughter to her very core. "What would put your heart at ease?"

And the answer came so easily, so simply, that Jenny believed she had known it all along.

_Please, just give me the key. Just one more door, that's all I need._

"The truth."

* * *

"I… I think I understand now."

These were the first words spoken by Kerry in a long while, as she and Syrena waited for hours upon hours for Mulan to return. They had spent the entire time in meditative silence, with Syrena curled up into a ball in the corner of the hotel room, while Kerry gazed absentmindedly down upon the city.

"Happiness and despair always have to balance out to zero; that's just how the world works. When wishing for someone else's joy, there always has to be someone else to carry the sorrow. It's a logical equation. I thought that being the Element of Hope would change that, would put us above it, but I guess we're no different than anyone else."

"It makes sense," Syrena said from her tiny corner as she faced the wall. "Everything comes at a price, and I suppose this is how we pay. No one can stay happy for too long. All we can do is give happiness to others; we can't hope to achieve it ourselves."

"And even then, what's the point?" the Element of Hope cried. "We can hope for a better future, but in the end, it doesn't matter. It won't change anything. We're all going to die anyway, and no one can stop it, just like I couldn't stop it from happening to Rebecca. And even if I did, all I would do is buy her some more time to just die again. What's the use of putting off the inevitable?"

"It's terribly cruel, when you think about it," she continued in such a calm, matter-of-fact tone that it surprised ever herself. "They called you Light, and all it's done is let darkness prey upon you like a leech. They called me Hope, and all it's done is show me how… inescapable everything about life is."

Kerry let her words drift off as she looked down upon the city of Sanliurfa, from the upper class district of modern concrete apartment blocks, to the dilapidated oriental buildings of the middle class, to the crude cave houses the city's most impoverished citizens had carved out of the sides of rocks. There were so many different people living such different lives, and yet their deaths were all the same.

"I would escape, run away if I could," Kerry said, "except there's no where to run to. We were fools, Syrena. Hopeless, stupid fools for getting ourselves caught up in this. They say we have power, but we're nothing more than pawns in this game. I don't know whether the Enclave or the Conclave is right, but I'd better neither of them give a damn if we live or die. We're nothing—"

Kerry was suddenly cut off by Syrena as with a strangled cry, she hurled a nearby glass of water at the opposite wall, causing it to shatter into a million pieces.

"Stop it!" she cried, covering her ears. "Just stop it! I can't take it anymore!"

In alarm, Kerry immediately ran to Syrena's side, where she gently rocked her friend back and forth in her arms while Syrena clung to Kerry for dear life as she cried in great, heaving sobs of hysteria.

"I… I wish I could t-turn back time," Syrena whimpered, her tortured voice fighting to control her rasping sobs. "I never w-wanted this. I wish I could turn back time… a-and never discover the truth about myself. It's… it's too horrible to bear."

"Shush, there, there," Kerry murmured as she ran her fingers through Syrena's hair in a calming manner. "Don't worry, that's what we're going to do. The minute we can—hey, look at me." Kneeling down so they were eye-to-eye, Kerry clasped Syrena's hands in hers as she said, "The minute we can, we're going to run away from this place. We can't go home; it's too dangerous; they know where we live. We're going to run very far away, and no one will know who we are or where we came from. We'll start a new life wherever we want, and we won't ever have to worry about useless things like hope and light ever again, okay?"

Syrena nodded and rubbed her eyes just as a knock came from the door.

"Kerry? Syrena?" Mulan asked from outside the hallway. "Can I come in?"

The two girls hastily fixed themselves into a more presentable appearance before opening the door to admit Mulan, closely followed by a figure Kerry and Syrena remembered quite well.

"_You_?" Kerry asked in disbelief as she saw Homura in her child form. "You were from the Angelic Black Market! We saw you with Rebec… when we were there. How do you Mulan?"

"She's a close acquaintance of mine," Mulan explained. "And we happen to have much in common. But more importantly, she possesses something that can help you on your quest."

Curiosity peaked, the two girls watched in amazement as from her pocket, Homura extracted a shimmering white and black orb, the same one she had been carrying at the Angelic Black Market.

"This is a Soul Orb," Homura declared, holding it out for Kerry and Syrena to admire. "A mystical artifact that has the power to place you in contact with Heaven's power."

"Will it lead us to Jacob's Ladder?" Kerry asked. "Because, according to my knowledge, it was marked by a stone, not—"

"Then your information is woefully incorrect," Homura said with disdain. "It was an error in translation – a slight one, completely unnoticeable to most, but one that makes all the difference for our purposes. Jacob stumbled upon a Soul Orb on his way to Haran, and through the medium of a dream, it elevated his mind to the state of peace, Heaven, with the Soul Orb linking the two. While this is not the original Soul Orb, it will work in the same way. By channeling energy from the Hall of Shattered Mirrors, it will allow your soul to astral-project to Heaven."

"However, there is a catch," Homura continued, her inky black eyes narrowing. "The Soul Orb can only astral project one soul. You cannot go together; one of you must journey alone."

There was a pause, where Mulan and Homura waited like silent sentries as Kerry and Syrena exchanged concerned glances.

"You go, Syrena," Kerry decided finally, her voice hardened to the point of indifference. "I have something I need to do."

"Hey!" Syrena called as Kerry started for the door. "Where are you going?"

But Kerry didn't respond, instead turning to Mulan. "Mulan, I'm very sorry about this," she began, "but I need to borrow a few hundred dollars for a plane ticket."

"Hey, don't ignore me!" Syrena yelled as the transaction was made. Rushing forward, Syrena grabbed Kerry by the shoulders so they were face to face. "Where are you going? What are you going to do?"

"Something I should have done a long time ago," Kerry replied. "Something that I didn't have the guts to do until now."

"Go take down the Consecrated Barrier if you can, Syrena," she continued, "but I'm going to do things my own way. You were blinding me from rationality before, but now I know what I have to do. I'm going to cut out the root of all our problems."

"No," Syrena breathed, tears streaming from her eyes. She didn't care about the surging waves of painful despair rolling off of Kerry to her; rather, she tightened her hold, shaking her friend back and forth like a lifeless puppet. "No! You can't do this! You can't leave me! Please, don't! You don't mean this!"

But her screams fell upon deaf ears as Kerry's stony eyes regarded her with a cruel, removed indifference, as if Syrena was her inferior rather than her equal, an equal friend she had treasured for so long. She roughly wrested her arms from Syrena's grasp as she turned away, while Syrena gasped in pain, both from Kerry's despair as well as her own, as she said:

"I'm going to kill Lucia."

* * *

It had taken both Mulan and Homura two hours and 17 minutes, a broken door, 500 dollars of bribery, one thousand dollars of betting, a fair amount of time manipulation, a sledgehammer, seven musical numbers, a toothless alligator, an onslaught of pies, and a cotton candy cloud raining chocolate milk to keep Syrena from running after Kerry. She was subdued now, with her eyes closed and her hands clasped as she lay perfectly still on the bed (one of the few items in the room that was still in tact) in a false mask of serenity. Homura stood at her side, her inky black eyes regarding the girl warily, and while Mulan was stationed at her head. The fallen angel held the Soul Orb in place, and if Syrena could have seen her face, she would have found it regarding the object with contempt, anxiety, and… was that fear?

"Now remember," Homura instructed, "the procedure for getting there will be entirely painless; the hard part is finding your way. Once the orb reflects your soul through the Hall of Shattered Mirrors, you have to wait to be shown the way to the angel that Mulan will connect you with. Understood?"

Syrena nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"Good," Homura said, and without further fanfare, flicked a whitish powder into Syrena's face, causing her to fall drowsy. "Mulan, she's ready. Begin the connection."

"One more thing," Syrena murmured sleepily as she felt the Soul Orb hum to life in Mulan's trembling hands. "Who's the angel I'm going to meet?"

At this, Homura suppressed a mean-spirited laugh. "I believe it is more fitting to have Mulan tell you, child."

"I can only form a connection with one angel," Mulan explained, closing her eyes to block out the painful memories. Her voice trembled as she smiled through her tears. "My only tie to the place I once was proud to call home. And ironically enough, he's the one who cast me out of Heaven in the first place."

As Syrena slipped into to unconsciousness, she could just barely hear Mulan say:

"It's time for you to meet my brother."

* * *

***sigh* I wanted to do more with Miss Eldridge and Julianne, but then things were changed around from my original concept of this story, so while I think they're still important, they're kind of also dead weight in a story with ten bajillion different characters. So yeah, wrote myself into a corner, wanted to cut down on characters, and thus, the sadly under-developed Miss Eldridge got her head chopped off. :P**

**So yeah, because of time constraints with school, I had to make a bunch of quick, choppy scenes to convey a lot of information without having to flesh out too much. Hope it wasn't too terrible. However, I can promise that Chapter 14, "Amazing Grace," is going to be much better than this. I wouldn't call it happy, but there's definitely a lot of hope in it. Plus, it has one of my favorite pieces of dialogue, and has a crowning Syrena moment:**

_"...But that doesn't mean I won't try to do something good in this world. To be able to emphasize with a person, to help them push aside the shadows of their past to find joy in light… that's a wonderful gift. I wouldn't care if all the world was shrouded in darkness; if there was but one good being in this world, I would be a light for it. Because I'm the Element of Light; it's what I do. I would shoulder all the pain and sorrow in the world if I could see the people I love smile. And even if they didn't love me back, I would still want the best for them. I would never turn them away! I would give them a second chance, a third chance, how ever many they needed to find their way home again."_

**So look forward to that next Wednesday!**

**Love to all,**

**Bella**


	16. Amazing Grace

_Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter._

The steady pounding of Kerry's footsteps was her only company as she made her steady trek through the tunnels of the London Underground. A solitary figure, her silhouette seemed to quiver in the light of the flickering torches as she made her way deeper and deeper into the labyrinth. The firelight glinted off the surface of her silver gun, loaded with Lexonite bullets and clenched in her white-knuckled fist, which Kerry was pretty sure would require a crowbar to unclench. Her pace was measured, her tense muscles over-calculating every step, as all her senses were on high alert for an ambush in enemy territory. Every time before she turned a corner, she would pause and listen for the sound of approaching footsteps, but all she heard was the sound of church hymns from the cathedral above.

_Amazing grace, how sweet the sound_

_ That saved a wretch like me_

Kerry scowled as she heard the song that had been a precursor to Rebecca's death. _Guess that amazing grace couldn't find the time to save Rebecca, _she thought bitterly.

After making sure the coast was clear, Kerry turned the corner, only to come face-to-face with a fork in the road, the right one with lit torches glowing merrily, and the left with all of them snuffed out. Kerry was left in the middle, with absolutely no idea where to go.

_I once was lost, but now am found_

_ Was blind, but now I see_

_If Syrena was with me, she'd probably act all brave and take the dark path, _Kerry thought to herself before stopping short, shaking her head to rid herself of such thoughts. _No, I don't need her to make decisions for me. This is me, now. I don't need her. I can't reply on her anymore._

With a sigh, Kerry paused to access the situation from a more logical view. _The lit path looks much more maintained, which means people must travel it more often. Unless that's meant to be a ruse to detour people from the dark path, implying that there's something secret at the end. But the Conclave must know smart people would think that, so they chose the light path. Unless they think smart people can't fight, in which case they would chose the dark path, so they can kill all the Enclave's intelligent minds. Unless…_

"Oh great, now I'm just thinking in loops," Kerry burst out. Clearly, this was a problem that couldn't be solved by logic. But then how would she decide?

"Okay," she said, fishing out a quarter, that glorious device through which all important decisions were made. "Heads is the light path, and tails is the dark path. Go!"

Kerry squeezed her eyes shut as she tossed the coin high into the air. _Please don't be like the movies, _she begged, crossing her fingers._ Please, please,_ please_ don't be like the movies…_

Only when she heard the faint clatter of the coin hitting the ground did she dare open her eyes. She first looked down at the coin, then at the corresponding path, then down at the coin again, as if expecting the result to change.

It didn't.

"Oh, why does it always have to be the dark path?!"

* * *

_'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear_

_ And grace my fears relieved_

If fear was a college course, Kerry was sure she would have at least five PhD's in the subject as she made her was through the dark tunnel. Her right hand groped in the darkness before her, while her other hand was pressed against the side of the wall to guide her. But even then, there was no defense from an overactive imagination, as Kerry soon discovered. She found herself jumping at anything from a dripping leak from the ceiling to the squeak of a mouse led astray from the sewers. So frequent were these occurrences that Kerry eventually had to grab a section of her shirt and stuff in her mouth as a gag. If only she had been accompanied by a certain shape-shifting girl who could fill a room with light with a snap of her fingers as well as force Kerry to toughen up. If Kerry had been with someone else, she would have hidden her fear for the sake of saving face; now, alone in the darkness, there was no one to push her along, to guide her to the end.

_How precious did that grace appear_

_ The hour I first believed_

Just then, Kerry glanced upward (not that it really mattered; it was just as dark as if she had her eyes closed), and saw a most welcome sight. There was a tiny speck of light at the end of the tunnel! Kerry would have flat-out sprinted for it, but she knew that secrecy demanded she tread with caution. So, heartened, she continued at her regular pace, watching as the tiny dot of fiery light grew ever larger, melting the shadows away. It wasn't much, but to Kerry, it felt like a miniature sun filling her entire vision.

When Kerry finally reached the end of the tunnel, she curiously peaked her head around the wall to see…

It was a curious little room, sparsely furnished, with a simple bed and writing desk as the only two pieces of furniture in the room. The cold cobblestone floor was mostly covered by a gold-colored rug, which matched the bedspread. It had at least six torches, the source of the light Kerry had seen in the tunnel, occupying all four walls of the room, but even then, it felt like the wane light seeped into the darkest corners, as if terrified of being seen, leaving the room bathed in a dim, shadowy light. Despite the room clearly having the air of being lived in and well kept, to Kerry, it felt more like a prison room than anything else. Apparently, the owner felt the same, evident by the almost unholy amount of stuffed animal plushies littering the room, although their vacantly happy smiles peeking out from every available nook and cranny gave far more of a creepy than uplifting atmosphere.

And in the center of it all was Lucia, sitting on her bed and looking sadly at her wall, where a tacked-up piece of paper hung, depicting an artistically proficient drawing of a window showing of grassy meadow under a shining sun.

_Is this what it's like to live permanently underground and never see the sun? _Kerry pondered, struck by the revelation. Pushing the question aside for a later date, she turned her attention back to Lucia, who was absentmindedly flipping a coat button over and over in her hand. Her royal regalia had been taken off, and without it, Lucia looked strangely vulnerable, the strength sapped from her eyes as she clutched the coat button so tightly that one would believe that it was the only thing keeping her grounded on the earth.

_The Lord has promised good to me_

_His word my hope secures_

"It… it's almost done, Mom," Lucie whispered to herself, her voice trembling with silent tears. "With the Element of Love, we'll be able to fix the glitch in our DNA. Finally, we'll be able to take back everything. Our home, our family… I only wish… I-I just wish you were here to see it. It-it's hard, Mom. I'm trying to be strong for everyone, but they're already stronger than I ever could hope to be. They were all willing t-to die for me—" she trembled at the memory, "but how am I supposed to match that? I never deserved them. I never will."

As if stricken by some earth-shattering blow, Lucie's arms clutched her sides as if they would fall apart if she let go. "I can't do this, Mom," she cried. "I… I thought I could do this by myself, p-put on a brave face so no one could see how scared I am, but I can't. I'm not that strong. I can't do this by myself.

"But… but I'm not giving up, either. Please, don't think that. I'm still going to finish what you started, even if it kills me. I'm going to do for you what the world wouldn't let you do yourself."

"Why?" she cried, holding the coat button, the only remnant from her time in England as a young girl with her mother. "Why couldn't they let you stay? Why did they hate me so much? Why couldn't they accept me for who I was?"

Kerry watched and heard all of this with a look of astonishment, but she instantly waved this aside upon remembering the goal of her mission. Pulling out the Lexonite-loaded gun, she pointed it with adept precision at the weeping halfling's head. There was no mercy, no pity in her eyes as she held the deadly instrument with a scary confidence, and even a bit of mockery. Did Lucia seriously think she could change the future? It wasn't possible; it wasn't a truth she could accept. For if it was true, then that meant Rebecca could have been saved, and that wasn't a reality Kerry could face. So she might as well accept her own fate as Daphne's personal bounty hunter. She knew better than to deny that now. That was her life. There was no hope of change, resistance, just subservient compliance as someone higher moved the strings. She understood that now.

But Kerry wasn't a fool either. She knew that killing Lucia wouldn't change the past.

But vengeance would sure make looking back on it a whole lot sweeter.

"I wouldn't take life too seriously if I were you, Lucia," Kerry hissed under her breath as her index finger began to press down on the trigger. "After all, no one's ever gotten out of it alive."

"Hey!" shouted a voice from behind. "What do you think you're doing here?"

Cursing under her breath, Kerry whipped around to see none other than Scarlette, sword drawn, and looking at Kerry with such contempt that it gave new meaning to the words 'if looks could kill.'

Literally.

"Looks like someone came for round two."

* * *

"You've got a lot of guts coming here alone," Scarlette taunted, her sword quivering in the direction some organs Kerry would prefer un-skewered. "What happened to your little friend? I was looking forward to seeing her again; she was what made our last little encounter interesting. Strong, brave, unpredictable… she was a real fighter. Such a shame. I doubt you'll last even five minutes, and that's with a slow death. You're playing a dangerous game, girly. I'd walk away now, before you get hurt."

"As if you'd let me walk away without a fight," Kerry said.

"Better I leave you able to walk," Scarlette retorted, moving her sword downward to point at the base of Kerry's legs.

"Don't underestimate what I can do," Kerry declared fiercely as she whipped out her gun, aiming it at Scarlette's head.

But the halfling only laughed. "Seriously? You can't fire that th—"

"Shut up!"Four shots rang out, causing Scarlette to duck as the Lexonite bullets whizzed past her face, only to be embedded into the adjoining wall.

Scarlette fell silent.

"That was a warning," Kerry said menacingly. "Next time, I'll have much better aim. Let's see you try to fight without your powers… unless, of course, you're too much of a coward."

That was enough for Scarlette, and with a loud, angry cry, she charged at full speed towards Kerry. Kerry, meanwhile, grabbed her gun and started firing, aiming blindly, but all the shots that hadn't been deflected were blocked by a few expert twists of Scarlette's sword.

"You just don't get it, do you?" Scarlette said with a sigh as she effortlessly deflected all of Kerry's attacks. "You can't win against me."

"We'll see about that, freak," Kerry said, preparing to fire again, only to feel an earth-shattering punch connect with the side of her jaw, causing her to be thrown several feet and collide headfirst into the wall. Like a crumpled piece of paper, Kerry simply lay there, her body skewed into painfully morbid positions, as she nursed the pain steadily building in her aching jaw.

"Don't think that just because you're an Element I'll let you live," Scarlette growled, looking down upon Kerry with disgust. "We already have Love, and we can get Light if need be, making you easily replaceable."

The mention of Jenny instantly snagged Kerry's attention. "What have you done with her?" she demanded as she stood up again.

"Oh, nothing yet," Scarlette trilled. "But just you wait. She will be the key that will finally allow us to unlock our full power, our true potential, and bring this world to its knees. But for now, I think you'll be a nice starter course."

_He will my shield and portion be  
As long as life endures_

Kerry was a person of many words, but none of them were used now as she straight-out charged at Scarlette with enough rage to make anyone either tremble or question her mental sanity. With a sneer, the halfling waited until just the last moment to sidestep the raging bull, and with a nasty blow to her head, implemented by the blunt end of the hilt, she sent Kerry careening to the floor once more.

However, Kerry was able to think quicker than before. Not wasting a second, she pulled out her gun, and even with her eyes watering from pain, her aim was true, as she sent a bullet at Scarlette's right hand, causing her sword to spiral out of her grip and embed itself with an ominous quiver some twenty feet away.

"No weapons," Kerry said, tossing her gun to the side. "I want to do this right." Then, rolling up her sleeves in preparation for the great battle, Kerry started what may have been one of the most violent catfights in history. Any intelligence the two young women may have possessed before had now been thrown out the window, as they devolved to screaming and throwing vulgar insults at the other. Kerry didn't dare open her eyes during the fight, lest they be gouged out by Scarlette's fearsome claws. And indeed, she felt blood trickle down her neck as those same claws raked across her cheek.

It was surprising for Kerry, who had always had the prudence to stay away from fights in the past, to find this uncivilized grudge match healthy, even serene to take part in. Her vision swam with a tinted red as she let go of any previous reservations, stopped trying to calculate her attacks in a logical manner for maximum efficiency, and simply listen to her instincts, which were currently telling her to beat Scarlette to a pulp. This more aggressive tactic caused several more bruises to flower across her body, but she was immune to, even invigorated by all of them as, with a terrifying Herculean strength she didn't know she possessed, she grabbed Scarlette by the hair and tossed her clear across the tunnel towards the sword, the gun, and the four stray Lexonite bullets.

Then all of a sudden, as it often is in such messy battles when one is physically and emotionally fatigued, Kerry paused just a second too long between blows, which was all the time Scarlette needed to gain an advantage. Her hands deftly wove through the various fists and blows to snake their way up to Kerry's exposed neck, where they began to slowly throttle her.

"You were a fool," Scarlette laughed. "You'll just end up like all the rest, dead in the Realm of Beauty Unrequited where you belong!"

"No… way…" Kerry choked out. Her numbing fingers blindly groped around until they curled around one of the stray Lexonite bullets. A deafening cry of agony rang out as Kerry pressed the deadly metal against Scarlette's neck. Her back arched in pain, causing her to relinquish her hold on Kerry as she fell twitching to the floor. Kerry took advantage of the situation to then stuff the bullet down Scarlette's throat. The half Lexiconian howled in torment as she convulsed, blood foaming from her mouth as the Lexonite began to burn away her throat from the inside out. Grabbing her roughly by the collar, Kerry picked Scarlette up and started brutally beating Scarlette's head against the wall.

Finally, when she felt Scarlette's body grow limp from pain, Kerry picked up her fallen gun and placed the barrel against the side of the halfling's head.

_Amazing grace, how sweet the sound  
__That saved a wretch like me_

"There is one bullet left in here," Kerry growled, "and know that I will not hesitate to use it on you."

"N-No," Scarlette gasped, her eyes growing wide with fear. "Don't kill me."

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't."

"B-Because… because I don't deserve… to die."

"Wrong answer!" Kerry screamed, driving the gun further into Scarlette's forehead. "Rebecca didn't deserve to die either! But you killed her!" At once, her voice grew more subdued, until it was barely audible. "A life for a life. That's how you preserve balance in the world. I have to do this. It's the only way."

"If that's… what you believe…" Scarlette choked out, her eyes starting to roll back in pain. "There's nothing more… I can say…"

"You can convince me not to do this," Kerry said, tears welling from her eyes. "You can give a reason to not pull the trigger."

"But the thing is, I don't want to," Scarlette said. "Either way, it will work out in my favor. Whether I live or die, I'll be able to serve the Conclave of Lexicon, serve Lucia. Anyway, it's not my decision anymore. It's yours."

_I once was lost but now am found  
__Was blind but now I see_

"A life won't be what evens this out," Scarlette continued, "because a life wasn't what was truly taken from Rebecca that day. If you kill me, the only one who's going to pay is you."

_She's right, _Kerry thought in wonder. _Grace, mercy, hope; those were the things Rebecca cared about. She died so that she could inspire other people to fight. She guided others, helped them believe in themselves. She gave them hope. All I can do now is carry that hope through._

With a loud, mournful cry, Kerry took the gun and slammed the side into the back of Scarlette's head, causing her to fall to the ground, unconscious.

Kerry dropped to her knees smiling, her heart filled with grace. "Thank you," she whispered to the limp form. "For helping me see what I couldn't. I know you hate me, but I hope there will come a day when I can save you in return."

"I'd worry about saving yourself if I were you," shouted a nearby voice.

Alarmed, Kerry looked up and gasped.

Standing before her was Lucia, aiming a gun straight at Kerry's head.

* * *

Everything was neutral.

The air around her neither warm nor cool, the ground beneath her neither smooth nor rocky, the light neither harsh nor dim. There was no smell, nor sound, nor any other characteristic other than that akin to being a blank canvas. This, however, did not mean these things were absent; they were simply things conjured into existence with no other thought left to them by their creator. It was not an unpleasant revelation, but a striking one nevertheless.

And all these conjectures were made even before Syrena opened her eyes to see the realm of Heaven… wait, Heaven?

With a gasp, Syrena remembered where she was, and with that, her eyes snapped open to meet a pale blue sky, also uniformly neutral in the fact that despite there not being a cloud in the sky, one could not dispel the feeling of an impending storm being just beyond the horizon. There was also no sun in the sky, making it impossible to tell what time of day it was, if time was even a concept in this realm.

Sitting up and looking about, Syrena discovered that she had been lying on a bed of grass in a grove of flowers, coming in a wide variance of hues and types. Normally, Syrena wouldn't have been able to name a single flower, but it just so happened that this place was shockingly familiar.

_Is this… my mother's garden?_

It indeed bore a likeness to this garden, except that this one possessed more of a magical aura than anything else. Her bare feet eerily silent, she carefully treaded over to a tiny little bluebell flower that, to Syrena's wonder, emitted sparks of starlight at the slightest touch. So fascinated and wholly absorbed in the phenomenon of this little flower, as well as comforted by the peaceful tranquility of the garden, that she hardly noticed that she was indeed not alone, and was only made aware of this fact when she stood up and smacked straight into a person.

Embarrassed, Syrena was just about to hastily apologize to the man until she realized that he hadn't even noticed at all, and instead blindly carried on his way unimpeded. With a gasp, Syrena looked about to see that there were in fact hundreds upon hundreds of people in that grove, all wearing pure white robes and bearing various amounts of shadowy chains that weighed them down. If less distracted by other observations, Syrena would have then noticed that she on the other hand could not see what she looked like, only seeing a vacant, invisible void when she looked down.

However, this fact was overshadowed for the moment, as Syrena watched with amazement as the crowd all around her walked toward one predetermined destination, paying no mind to her. Unnerved, Syrena found to her horror that the sight was very much akin to zombies, except that these people bore the expressions of utmost rapture that even made the most displeasing aesthetic beautiful. Their eyes were filled with the light like that of a child seeing the sun for the first time, and it was so blinding and beautiful that even the Element of Light herself had to shield her eyes from their glow.

Putting this aside, Syrena cast her gaze over their destination, a grand, spiraling ladder that seemed to stretch for an immeasurable distance into the sky, where a pervading mist obscured its true heights from sight. Syrena watched with fascination and horror as one person, bogged down with hundreds of chains, attempted to climb the ladder, only to have the step give way from the sheer weight of the iron chains, and fall into oblivion. Another was considerably luckier, her lighter burden that then first allowing her to ascend a couple steps before she fell. Still another, with very few chains binding him, was able to climb out of sight, even as the steps grew increasing more fragile then higher up he went.

But the thing that shocked Syrena most was how none of the other people stopped to help or even acknowledge the fallen souls, giving even more weight to Syrena's theory that these people could indeed not see anyone else but themselves. Syrena knew that nothing she could do now would help them, so all she could do was turn away at the sight, not wanting to witness anymore tragedy like that which had been apparent all throughout her mission.

Upon remembering her mission, which up until then had been completely forgotten, Syrena gasped as she recalled how she was supposed to go to Heaven to meet with an angel and ask him or her to take down the Consecrated Barrier around the Conclave of Lexicon's headquarters so that the Enclave could enter. _Wait, I-I have t-to go up that ladder too?_

Now alone in the grove, Syrena trembled and held back tears as she saw yet another person fall, a person who could very well be her in a few moments. _Well, _she thought to herself with a wavering courage, _no use in waiting around here, now is there? I've got a mission, and it's not like I can just run away. _

Closing her eyes as her entire body shook violently, she carefully took one step forward, wincing as if she were stepping on broken shards of glass. She took another step, then another, the time in between them seeming to stretch for an eternity in her fear. Eventually, the suspense was too much for her took take, and in the manner that one would rip off a Band-Aid, Syrena gritted her teeth, squeezed her eyes shut, and started blindly sprinting for the ladder, her golden hair fluttering behind her like a banner in the swirling mist.

Crying in hysteria, even as she kept running forward without faltering, she screamed, "No, I don't want to do this! I don't wanna die!"

"There is no need for that," called a mighty voice from above, causing Syrena to pause and gaze in wonder as a pair of angel wings descended from the sky.

Syrena now knew why in the Bible, angels would also start out by saying 'Do not be afraid' when appearing to humans, as she was very much afraid as she trembled before the angel, his frigid wings of drifted snow and flaming eyes glancing down upon her disdainfully making him seem more terrifying than any demon. Syrena fell to her knees and hid her face, like a child fearful of punishment and retribution. Even with her head bent, she could sense the angel's eyes probing her, watching her intently as if assessing her abilities through her outward appearance.

"Rise, Syrena, Child of Light," the angel commanded.

Spurred to action by some celestial miracle, Syrena just barely managed to stagger to her feet like a drunkard, composure herself, and stutter, "H-How did you know my name?"

"I know a great many things, Child of Light," the angel replied cryptically.

If it had been anyone else, Syrena would have outwardly resented being called a child twice in a row. Instead, she remarked, "Um, you d-don't have t-to call me Child of Light… I-I mean, if you don't want to!" she hastily amended for fear of offending him. "I mean, well, what I meant to say was… um, Syrena is just fine."

The angel nodded. "Very well then, Syrena."

"And what can I c-call you?"

Spreading his wings even wider to give the feeling of grandeur, the angel announced, "I am Gabriel, one of the Chosen Twelve of the High Council, and the Sovereign Angel of Messages."

At the mention of his name, something in Syrena's mind clicked. "Y-you're Gabriel?" she asked. "_The _Gabriel? As in that angel that appeared to Mary in the Bible?"

Gabriel nodded stoically.

"So you're Mulan's brother?"

At the mention of his sister, Syrena noticed the muscles in his neck tense ever so slightly in anger. And while the hidden rage of a heavenly authority was generally not something to be rejoiced about, Syrena felt relief at witnessing some small semblance of emotion in this creature with a heart of stone. This chink in the armor was what gave Syrena the courage to continue her interrogation.

And Syrena had a great deal of questions, but for now, she decided to start off with the simplest one. "What is this place?"

"A waiting place," Gabriel replied. "A space between your world and mine. I believe in modern day parlance, you would refer to it as Purgatory."

"Oh," Syrena remarked, crestfallen. "It's just… I was hoping… this place sort of reminds me of my mother's garden at home."

"This place has no one affixed setting. Rather, it aligns itself into the location chosen by a person's mind; thus, it never looks the same to more than one person. What is a garden to you can be a seashore to another, or a secret rendezvous to another. Typically, this place is meant to take the shape of a place the person loves, a place where the soul feels at peace in order to ease the transition between worlds."

Syrena nodded in understanding before asking, with a hint of childlike wonder in her voice that only comes through innocent curiosity, "What do you see when you come here?"

Gabriel at once fell silent, his lips constricting into a pale, grim line of displeasure, which Syrena nervously took as angel talk for 'no comment.' Deciding to move on, she cast a glance at the tall spiral ladder. "You stopped me from climbing the ladder," she remarked with a quiet air of thought, never taking her eyes off the ladder. "Why?"

"There is no coming back from climbing that bridge, even if you could climb it at all," Gabriel replied in his regular air of indifference. "I only came to tell you to turn back, before this foolish escapade brought on by the Lost Guardian of Time and Space could result in the loss of your soul."

This took Syrena by surprise. "So… you know why I'm here, then."

"Yes, and I know why you are avoiding the topic, as well," Gabriel said curtly. "You know in your heart what I will say, but you cannot bring yourself to hear it. I will not take down the Consecrated Barrier surrounding St. Paul's Cathedral under any circumstances."

"But you can, can't you?" Syrena persisted. "If you wanted to, you could, right?"

"It is within my power," the angel conceded.

"Then why won't you?"

"Because I am bound to the Law," Gabriel stated. "I will not deviate from it."

"Is that the same law that made you want to kick out your own sister?!" Syrena demanded, growing angry and frustrated.

"She made her own decision," Gabriel said with perfect composure suitable to one who had had eons to practice it. "It was not a result of my own actions. Repercussions for her rebellion were only natural. She could not escape from the Law then, nor will I today."

"You can't even make an exception?" Syrena pleaded.

Gabriel said by way of answer, "Dura lex sed lex."

"'The law is hard, but it is the law,'" Syrena translated from Latin. Sadly, she closed her eyes and bent her head in shame. "I see."

"I grow tired of you," Gabriel announced, taking Syrena's actions as ones of surrender. "Come, let me guide you through the Hall of Shattered Mirrors and back to the land of the living, where your soul belongs."

Syrena was just about to follow him when she stopped, at least wanting to try one last time. "I-I know you can't help me," she began, her former boldness gone. "But, please… can you at least tell me of a way I can save everyone from Lucia?"

At this, Gabriel's steps faltered, and he turned to study Syrena curiously, as if seeing her for the first time. "Why do you wish to save them?"

It was Syrena's turn to look confused. "Huh?"

"Of course," he said, more to himself than to her. "Such a small, simple mind that has only existed for a mere blink of existence…. She couldn't possibly understand…"

"What?" Syrena cried. "What do you mean?"

"Perhaps I should show her," Gabriel mused, continuing on as if uninterrupted. "Make her understand… but that would be cruel… the burden would be too great… drive her into madness, I dare say…"

"I am the Element of Light," Syrena said, glaring at the angel with a fearful intensity. "It's my job to save the world. And if there's some reason I can't, then I don't care how much it hurts me; I want to know why."

Immediately after Syrena finished, the sound of a ringing gauntlet resonated ominously around the grove. At once, flowers began to be consumed by flames, distant battle cries could be heard in the distance, and the once blue sky had been drained of all its color, only to turn bone white, then blood red.

Syrena collapsed to the ground as her mind was suddenly bombarded with a flood of images, images that began to manifest in the now apocalyptic world around her. A thousand wars flashed before Syrena's eyes as she looked on in horror at the sheer carnage of it all. She felt herself drowning in a flood of tears brought on by people's anguish, only to drain away to reveal an endless expanse of graves beneath a blood-red sky. In desperation, she reached out her hand to comfort a crying girl forced into slavery, only to have her yanked away to be replaced with a dying soldier with a sword protruding from his chest, only to be replaced with a thousand other sorrows.

Screaming, Syrena buried her face in her hands, unable to bear seeing such sorrow anymore. Those horrible images felt as if they had been branded into her mind by an iron poker, but worst of all were the emotions. In that one instant, Syrena had experienced all the grief, hate, and despair of a broken world that would never heal, and she felt it all as acutely as if she had gone through these ordeals herself. Her shuddering body gasped for breath amid her tears, although now, after what she had seen, she wasn't all that sure if she wanted it anymore.

"Do you understand now?" Gabriel asked as the garden reverted to its normal, peaceful state. "Do you understand now just how pointless it is to save someone? You can't undo all the sorrow in the world. In order to bless someone, someone else must be cursed instead." He gestured to the ladder, where souls were still attempting to climb it. "For every person who rises, there must be another to fall. No matter how brightly the sun shines, it is always dark on half of the world."

"N-No," Syrena cried shakily as she stood up. "No."

"What do you mean, child?" Gabriel demanded impatiently.

"I mean I don't understand," Syrena explained. "I'm not naïve. I know there's darkness in the world. I've seen it, felt it myself. In one instant, I can see all the sorrow a person has endured, and feel it just as if it had been my own. At first, I wondered why I would be burdened with such a curse. I'm the Element of Light; darkness should be nonexistent to me.

"But then, I realized the truth. I can never truly know light without knowing darkness. They're a part of each other, and neither can be taken away. You can't feel joy without first knowing sorrow. It's like… if the sun shone all the time, then it wouldn't be that special, would it? Pretty soon, light wouldn't be all that important. It would be commonplace. It would lose its meaning in our hearts. If there was only light, then it would become neutral to us. I guess that's why good can never really triumph over evil.

"But that doesn't mean I won't try to do something good in this world. To be able to emphasize with a person, to help them push aside the shadows of their past to find joy in light… that's a wonderful gift. I wouldn't care if all the world was shrouded in darkness; if there was but one good being in this world, I would be a light for it. Because I'm the Element of Light; it's what I do. I would shoulder all the pain and sorrow in the world if I could see the people I love smile. And even if they didn't love me back, I would still want the best for them. I would never turn them away! I would give them a second chance, a third chance, how ever many they needed to find their way home again.

"And I think you should do the same for your sister. I don't know whether it was wrong or right of her to help Jezebel trade places with Judas all those centuries ago. Maybe she made a mistake, and maybe she didn't; that's all in the past now. But you should give her a second chance. I… I've seen her. Even though she puts on a brave face, she's carrying a lot of sadness inside. She doesn't feel like she belongs. She misses her home, her family, her brother, the people she loves.

"But even then, she's trying to make the best of her situation. She puts aside her own happiness to try to help people, to do what's right. Please, all I ask is that you help her. And you can, but only if you forgive her, just as she's forgiven you. Even… Even while she was crying, she smiled when she thought of you. She's not angry with you anymore. Please, don't be angry with her."

If time was a tangible concept in this world, Syrena believed it would stretch for a millennia as she stood watching Gabriel contemplate the situation, and towards the end of her ordeal, Syrena believed his intense gaze alone would be enough to strike her down with lightning from the heavens.

Finally, closing his eyes, he spoke. "You asked me what I see when I come here," he began. "I see a vast expanse of stars in a night sky. It's beautiful, perfect even. But there's always a gaping hole where the brightest star once was. Perhaps… perhaps it's time for that star to come home."

Smiling, Syrena burst into tears of relief and joy. Forgetting all former reservation, she ran to hug the angel. At first, Gabriel's muscles instinctively tensed up from the contact, but after a few moments, the armor around his heart softened to give way to something truly magical.

It was a good thing Syrena didn't look up during the hug, or else she would have been blinded by the radiant light of the angel's smile.

"Oh, and by the way," Syrena said, "after you take down the Consecrated Barrier, there's just one more thing I'd like you to do…."

* * *

"So, you're the Element of Hope," Lucia sneered, the gun pointed at Kerry's forehead. "What a shame. I was expecting more from you."

"Well, we can't please everyone, Lucia," Kerry retorted as she struggled to remain calm and collected. "Although, it would be pleasant if you could possibly direct that gun away from my head before I make you."

"I'd like to see you try with one bullet left."

"I have quite the aim, Lucia," Kerry said, "but I'm not going to kill you today."

"Oh really?" Lucia remarked, raising her eyebrows. "Judging by Scarlette, it looks like you were pretty hell-bent on killing me a few minutes ago."

"That was the easy way out," Kerry said. "A way of escape because I couldn't come to terms with reality and what I stood for. But now I know better. What's right is never easy. And it would be so easy for me to kill you now, but I know it would ultimately backfire on me. It'll be a long haul, but I know there's a way for everything to work out right, and all I need is hope to carry me through."

Lucia sighed. "I've never enjoyed murder," she began, preparing to pull the trigger. "It's always caused a certain pain in my heart to see people die because of their own ignorance. But I can't Assimilate you, and you'll interfere with my plans for Princess Alexandria the Element of Love. But believe me when I say that I do this not out of malice, but of necessity."

"You can't kill me, Lucia," Kerry declared, apparently at ease with her impending doom.

"Why?" Lucia mocked. "Nothing's stopping me. You're in my home ground. You're all alone. No one's here to save you."

"Hey, Lucia!" called an all too familiar voice from above. "I'd rethink that last part if I were you!"

Both Kerry and Lucia turned just in time to see Syrena, swinging down from the rafters on a golden strand of light. On her downward arc, Syrena just managed to kick Lucia in the head, sending her sprawling to the ground.

"Wow, that actually worked!" Syrena exclaimed with excitement as with a graceful twirl, she landed next to Kerry. "Gosh, you have no idea how epic it felt to do that! I felt like a hero straight out of an action movie!"

"S-Syrena?" Kerry spluttered. "Was that dramatic entrance really necessary?"

"Oh come on, Kerry," Syrena teased jovially. "Don't spoil my fun. There are some things you only get to do once in life, and this was definitely one of them."

"You have no idea how good it is to see you again," Kerry said.

"Yeah," Syrena agreed. "Sorry I went all psychotic and depressed on you."

"It's okay," Kerry said. "I think we were both a bit misguided."

"I wish we had more time to make up and all, but we're kind of on a tight schedule."

"So I take it you were able to take down the Consecrated Barrier?" Kerry asked.

"Yup! Good news is that the Enclave is on their way to attack this place. Bad news is that, well… I kind of alerted Lucia's security team that I was here when I sneaked in, so they're on their way, too."

"We'd better get out of here, then," Kerry said.

"Okay, but hold up; there's something we should probably do… hey, is that a Fluttershy pony doll?" Syrena asked, distracted as she noticed Lucia's room, filled with plush toys.

"Yeah, it is," Kerry noticed. "Limited edition, too."

"Well, screw Lucia; I'm taking this thing," Syrena announced, marching into the room and tucking the cute yellow pegasus doll under her arm. "Hmm, I wonder if I could dig around and find an Applejack doll, too. I need her to complete my set at home…"

"Um, what were you were saying earlier?" Kerry asked before Syrena got completely sidetracked. "You know, the thing that sounded actually important to this mission?"

"Oh, yeah! Here, let me show you this awesome power I've got," Syrena said. "Ribbons of Light!"

With a snap of her fingers, Syrena created a dozen strands of light, just like the one she had swung from, and had them wrap around the currently knocked-out Lucia.

"There we go!" Syrena exclaimed, admiring her handiwork. "She'll be waking up soon, but this'll buy us some time before she gets free."

And with that, the two girls, with Syrena leading the way, began to make their escape, running down the endless stretch of corridors in the London Underground.

"You didn't stay to fight Lucia or her security," Kerry remarked. "Why?"

"Well, you were with me," Syrena replied with a smile that set her entire face aglow. "I had to focus on saving you, not being reckless. Anyway, did you find out anything on your little scouting mission here?"

"Yeah, I did," Kerry replied. "I didn't really understand what she was talking about, but Lucia did mention something about Jenny being able to fix some glitch in halfling DNA."

"Jenny? What does she have to do with any of that?"

"I don't know," Kerry answered, "but knowing Lucia, it can't be anything good. We have to find her, before it's too late."

Syrena nodded her head in consent. "But before we do," she said, "there's something I found out in Heaven that I really think you should know."

"We're… we're sort of in another dimension."

* * *

**And the truth is revealed! So Kerry and Syrena have apparently rediscovered their Elements, but will the same hold true for Jenny? That, my friends, will be discovered in Chapter 15!**

**Now, a notice for any My Little Pony enthusiasts. Due to the wonderfully positive response I've received for Hide and Seek, both here and on FIMFiction, I'm planning to do a lot more MLP one-shots in the future. So far, this is what I have lined up:**

**Imperfection: A look into Twilight's feelings towards her mother after two years under the tutelage of Princess Celestia and her desire for the perfect mother.**

**Imbalanced: Sort of an alternate-universe version of Imperfection, including a mentally unstable Gothic Twilight and a twist on the original plot. Morbid hilarity ensues.**

**A Butterfly's Wings: For those who remember this one-shot of mine, a kind of Remembrance of a Moment's Paradise story about Fluttershy and her deceased sister, Glimmer Heart. **

**To Live with the Shame: A sad conversation with Screwball and Derpy about Screwball's insane mother, Screwloose. **

**Silentio Verborum/Litteras a Luna: Celestia finally works up the courage to ask Luna about the details of her 1000-year banishment. However, there are some words that simply cannot be spoken.**

**Note that I probably won't have time to get to all of these, but hopefully look forward to some of those! I'm halfway through Imperfection, and I intend to have that out sometime next week.**

**Love to all,**

**Bella**


	17. Jenny's Descent

**Three writing projects simultaneously? What have I gotten myself into? :D I'm so glad I focused on this one first, because this is one of those turning point chapters I've been keen on for a while. Again, there are probably ten billion grammar errors, but I just don't have time to go through and edit them, so the raw version will have to do.**

* * *

The world was quiet as Jenny looked down at the river flowing gently below her. The upper half of her body was dangling precariously off the bridge railing, and the rest of it threatened to follow as she peered into the murky depths of the water, where she could just barely make out a couple dangerously sharp boulders lining the bottom. She paused and contemplated just how far the drop would be. Fifteen feet, perhaps twenty, but that was irrelevant. Even if the fall wasn't what ended her, those boulders were guaranteed to do all the work.

Very decisively, she released one hand from its grip on the iron railing.

Jenny knew that most people would probably be scared stiff at this proposition, and if she was in a better state of mind, she'd probably be as well. She felt her heart pounding violently, almost painfully, in her chest, as if it was trying to break free from her rib cage and save itself from being sealed in a watery grave. This was most definitely a sign of fear in most cases, but it felt detached from her consciousness, like a spectator watching an event from the sidelines. And in a way, this made sense. She would be parted from her body soon enough.

With careful deliberation, she released her other hand from the railing.

How symbolic it all was, really. To her left, there stood the rows of buildings and apartments, filled with all the things this life held dear, and to her right lay endless thickets of forest, where she had spent all of last night and today in solitude, preparing to detach herself from that other world filled with people who felt so very far away. Below was the waters of death that would carry her beyond the horizon, above was the skies of new life cradling a dying sun, and here she was, in the middle of it all. And in the end, all that was left to be determined was remarkably simple. A bridge. A choice.

Silent tears fell into the water as she leaned out even further.

It was ironic, Jenny thought, how connected she felt with the world at this moment. She could feel the plants, the flowers, the animals, the very energy of life itself flowing through her, as natural as taking a single breath. Jenny supposed this was the world's way of giving her a parting gift before she left forever. She smiled at the thought. Maybe someone would care when she was gone.

She placed her right foot on the railing, ready to hoist her entire body up and over the edge.

Jenny placed a hand next to her cheek, only to find it dampened with tears. However, these were not tears of sadness or joy, but rather raw emotion hammering her being with a dull aching, as if she were parting with something very dear to her, even though in reality, it was nothing at all. With a sigh, she let her eyes flicker close. Perhaps she should be feeling differently about this, but all she could feel now was an aura of calm, even serenity, as if, even amidst the horrible wrongness of this situation, there was also a shining part that was irrevocably right.

The world was quiet. Oh, so quiet. Almost as if she were alone.

Except she wasn't.

"You wanted the truth, didn't you?" Nicole hissed wickedly. "Well, here it is. Your life doesn't have meaning. You could throw it all away right now, and the world would still continue on without a hitch."

"Such a waste of everyone's time, really," Tess chimed in. The two girls circled around Jenny like wraiths, while Jenny simply nodded, listening as if she were in a trance. "To think that you would ever amount to anything. All you ever were was a burden. So pathetic and alone that you had to create to imaginary friends, a delirious story, just to tell yourself you were important, when really, it was all a lie. You were never special."

A single tear rolled down her cheek as their words spurred her to climb the railing, ready to throw herself off.

"But we can change that."

The moment Jenny heard those words, it was like someone had breathed life into her once more. She stopped and turned around to face them, desperate to hear what they would say.

"The world is changing, Jenny," Nicole began, "in more ways than you can imagine. The human race is slowly destroying itself, bringing about awful death and destruction."

"However," Tess continued, "we know of someone who is trying to change this. She is sweet and kind, with goodness in her heart. She will lead this planet into a new age, one of peace and serenity. But she can't do it without you. She needs you; _we _need you."

"You're the only one who can put an end to all this suffering in the world," Nicole said. "At her side, you will be able to spread so much good in the world. You'll be able to create a heaven on earth. Everyone will look up to you and admire you forever. At last, you'll finally be able to find happiness."

"And all you need to do is come with us."

* * *

"Jenny!" Addison called, her flashlight darting through the inky black dusk settling over the town. "Jenny, where are you? Oh my gosh, Jenny, if you're playing hookie, you should look at the freaking time!"

It had been exactly 24 hours since Jenny had last been seen at home, or anywhere, really, and now a search party had formed amongst the neighborhood to find her and bring her back.

"Addison, I'm pretty sure she's not ditching school," Jessica said as her flashlight illuminated yet another deserted back alley. "She left her house yesterday afternoon. Something's definitely wrong with her."

"I… I feel just awful about all of this," Lisa cried. "W-We were her friends. We knew Jenny wasn't fine for a while now. Maybe if we had told someone, had tried to help her, she wouldn't have run off like this. We… we never should have left her!"

"Hey, Lisa, it's not your fault," Addison said, hugging Lisa while she cried on Addison's shoulder. "And neither is it any of ours. Jenny makes her own decisions; she always has. The only one who's responsible for this is herself."

"Unless…" Jessica began as an idea struck her, "unless she wasn't the one who wanted to leave."

The two other girls stopped to look and Jessica curiously. "You mean," Lisa began, "you think she was kidnapped?"

"It's happened before," Jessica rationalized in her matter-of-fact manner. "She was kidnapped two years ago. What's to say they didn't try to take advantage of her now and go after her again?"

"I guess it's possible," Addison said. "But that's the case, then I doubt they'd get very far. Everyone's out looking for her, and I don't know if they'd risk driving around the city with the police on high alert, too. So that leaves land out of the question, and they couldn't possibly get away by air without being seen, so that just leaves…"

"Water?" Lisa asked. "But the only water source around here is…"

"Waterlily Creek," finished Jessica, and with that, she took off running towards the outskirts of the town, with Addison and Lisa close behind.

"This is a crazy idea!" Lisa shouted as they sprinted down the only road in town that lead to Waterlily Bridge. "It's insane!"

"But it can't hurt to try," Jessica replied. _I know I'm right. I can feel it. There… There's something about Jenny that I don't think anyone can explain, but with her, you can't rely on reason. You have to follow your heart._

Taking a shortcut through a small thicket of brambles, the three girls eventually made their way to the riverside. In the pale light of dusk, they could just make out the shape of the bridge, and there, the silhouettes of three people, one of whom the girls could recognize anywhere.

"Jenny!" Jessica screamed, running desperately to get to the bridge, even as she slipped and fell several times in the mud of the riverbank. Still, she kept pressing onward by some unknown force, crying and screaming without knowing that her cries fell upon deaf ears.

Jessica and the others just reached the base of the bridge when she saw one of the unknown girls take out a small silver object, which widened and transformed into a glowing silver ring of light.

And it was in this brief flicker of light that Jessica saw something that would haunt her dreams for many restless nights to come: Jenny's eyes, glassy and vacant and devoid of all life.

And it wasn't just the eyes, but what they entailed. Jessica closed her eyes in pain as she felt something inside her heart sputter and die, ripped from her very body, and little did she know that this same pain rippled and spread to touch each and every person in the world. Jessica was so painstakingly close to dropping to her knees and crying out in defeat, for those eyes carried with them a sense of doom, not just for her, but for every person who carried even a shred of love in their heart. And in that single moment, she knew with undeniable proof that they had lost, even if she had no idea the battle had ever even existed. This was a moment that would change the very foundation of the world.

And all Jessica could do was cry as Jenny and the other two stepped into the portal and disappeared.

Jessica had no idea how long she and her friends had simply stood there in horror; all she could remember what had drawn her back to reality.

From seemingly out of nowhere, two girls suddenly arrived: one blonde and fuming, the other brunette and agitated, and both with identical creases of worry on their foreheads.

"Where's Jenny?" The hotheaded blonde immediately demanded. When Jessica only stared as her lips quivered soundlessly, she added, "Come on, out with it! We know you've got her somewhere, now come on and tell us where she is!"

"Syrena," chastised the seemingly more level-headed girl, "You've been terrorizing people like this all night, when they're all just trying to do the same thing we are. We're not going to get any answers like this. Although," she added in a kinder voice towards Jessica and the other girls, "if you _do _happen to know where she is, we _really _need you to tell us. Please, we're desperate at this point."

Feeling a bit more at ease with Kerry, Jessica hesitantly recounted what she had just witnessed on the bridge.

"They had to be Conclavian," Kerry concluded, her voice shaky and faltering with the last word. She turned her face away, hiding it beneath a curtain of hair, as she let one suppressed sob hiccup to the surface. "We're too late."

Venting her rage, Syrena punched a nearby tree. "Damn it!" she shouted, her voice still as strong and brazen as it had been before, but Jessica would have bet all her scholarship money that the nighttime darkness was masking her tears as well. "If she's been taken by the Conclave of Lexicon… I… I don't know if we'll be able to get her back."

"We can't still idly by, though," Kerry replied. "It's all just going to lead to a confrontation anyway. With the Barrier down, we can lead a rescue mission with the Enclave as backup—"

"Hey, hold on!" Addison exclaimed, cutting off these two strange girl's ramblings. "I… Conclave… Enclave… what the hell do you… that… any of this have to do with Jenny?!"

"There's no time to explain," Kerry replied swiftly. "We need to leave now. We don't have much time left. Maybe… maybe none at all."

"But wait!" Jessica shouted as the two began to walk away. "What's happened to Jenny? Is she…" _Afraid? Hurt? Injured? …D-Dead?_

"No," Kerry said, answering all of Jessica's unspoken worries. "Her fate is none of those things."

Jessica's face flushed with relief, only to blanch a pale white of terror and foreboding as she heard what Kerry said next:

"It's something far worse."

* * *

There were three things Jenny noticed when she regained consciousness.

First, she definitely wasn't on the bridge anymore.

Second, all she could see around her was fire.

And thirdly, it felt like her heart was encased in ice.

Jenny tried to sit up and gain a better sense of her surroundings, only to find that she was pinned down by leather strips bound around her ankles, wrists, and torso.

This wasn't good, and that one distant fragment of rationality and mental sanity in the back of her mind told her so. But still, she felt so passive of this fact as a strange feeling of lucid calm washed over her, making her brain swirl with fog and drained her of all her energy, leaving her feeling exhausted and sluggish.

The first alarm of warning was set off in her head.

Unable to sit upright, Jenny had to tilt her head left and right in order to gain any other perception of this strange place, and slowly, she began to construct an idea of her surroundings.

Her first observation was that what she had first mistaken as a ring of fire was actually just a circle of harmless torches placed around the room, bathing it an a flickering light. Despite that, there wasn't much to the place, except that it looked very old and worn, and once more, it was not a place she should be.

The next realization came upon discovering that she was tied down to a stone altar mounted on a dais in the center of the room. Bordering the edges were a series of unrecognizable, foreign symbols, all pulsating with a sickly yellow light. Still, she didn't struggle, lying there submissively like a lamb about to be slaughtered.

A second alarm sounded in her head.

And finally, the thing Jenny had noticed last, although Jenny focused on her the instant she melted from the shadows, and couldn't possibly look away, even if she wanted to.

"You aren't even resisting," Lucia remarked with a soft-spoken tone that barely cloaked her restrained excitement. "Nikita and Eliza certainly did a commendable job on you."

It was then that Jenny finally found her voice. "Who are you?" she asked. It was not spoken with fear, or even rage or rebellion, but rather with polite curiosity.

"My name is Lucia," she answered, her voice calm and soothing and even, so even the simplest of her sentences became like a comforting lullaby.

The name clicked in Jenny's memory. "Nicole and Tess mentioned you," she began, not even questioning where the two were now. "They said… you could help me. Make me feel happy again."

"Oh, I can do far more than that, Jenny," Lucia said, sitting at the base of the stone altar and looking at Jenny with pride. "I can give you your life back, grant you your heart's desires, allow your heart to burn with such an overwhelming joy that no sorrow will ever touch you again. However, in return, I need something from you. I have a… mission for you. It's of vital importance, one that can potentially save the whole planet, and you're the only person in the entire world who can carry it out."

"Me?" Jenny wondered. "Really? You need a normal person like me for something that important?"

"Jennifer Swan, you are anything but normal," Lucia insisted fervently, clasping one of Jenny's hands in hers. "You're a very special girl, Jenny. I've wanted to meet you for such a long time, longer than you can imagine. And know that you're here, you've brought me such joy. And you can let that joy touch so many more, if you'll allow me to guide you. I can unlock your true potential, Jenny, in ways that no one else can, for I know just how extraordinary you are. And soon, the whole world will know it, too. Their hearts will rejoice as they sing your name, they will dance for joy in your very presence, and your praises will echo throughout all of time. Is this what you want, Jenny?"

At this point, Jenny was greedily drinking in every word. "Yes," she breathed in awe. "It's all I've ever wanted." _To be special. To change the world. To be remembered. To be loved. _"I'll do anything, _anything_. Just tell me what I need to do."

Lucia's face was illuminated with light as she smiled down upon Jenny triumphantly, like a kind mother bursting with pride at the accomplishments of a beloved child. "Before you take on the mission, there is a surgery you must undergo."

This took Jenny by surprise. "A… a surgery? What for?"

"We're simply going to modify some of the inner workings of your nervous system," Lucia stated simply. "Put in place only to make sure you stay on task throughout the entire mission, nothing more."

"Oh," Jenny said nervously, never been one to enjoy doctor's visits, let alone a full-blown surgery. "Do I really need it?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so. However, I won't force you to do it if you really don't want to. You need to be 100% willing in order for the operation to be successful."

"No, no, it's okay!" Jenny amended quickly. Despite barely knowing her, she was so desperate for Lucia's approval, to comply with her wishes, and couldn't bear the thought of disappointing Lucia. "I'll do it; you have my word."

Lucia beamed with pride. Looking to the side, she motioned for two surgeons, whom Jenny had failed to notice beforehand as they stood like silent sentries in the darkest corner of the room, to come forward. Between their dull white lab coats, pale faces, and matching sunken grey eyes, it looked like all the color had been drained out of them, and it was especially noticeable in contrast to Lucia's vibrant, almost maniacal energy.

One of the surgeons wheeled out a small medical cart, ladled with a bunch of strange equipment, none of which Jenny found even remotely similar to the kind found in a typical doctor's office.

"Don't worry, Jenny," Lucia said, holding her hand as the surgeons began to thread wires beneath her skin."Don't be afraid. Everything's going to be just fine."

Jenny nodded, lying perfectly still as thin cables were attached to the temples of her forehead. _I know, _she wanted to say as her eyelids drooped with a sudden exhaustion. _I trust you._

Just dimly, she could the monotonous voices of the surgeons relaying the stages of the operation.

"Establishing connection to the amygdala."

"Serotonin levels increased."

"Endorphin levels increased."

"Beginning to cut off flow of oxytocin…"

Penetrating the fog of anesthesia clouding her mind, the last word clicked in Jenny's mind from her study of the human anatomy. Oxytocin was a hormone, closely linked with the emotion of… passion? Desire?

…Love?

_Wait…_

The third alarm went off, but it was too late.

"Begin Assimilation."

* * *

**Oh honestly, could it have been anything else? :D From here on out, I intend on providing explanations for... well, everything in this story, really. For example, next chapter will have why Lucia needs Jenny, why I've had to keep WordGirl out of the picture for so long, and (if I don't cut it off due to length) why everyone's so freaked out about the Lexicon sighting. So yes, now you'll be able to stop scratching your heads in confusion at what this story is about.**

**Also, while I'm still working out the finale, I'm predicting five more chapters and an epilogue before this is over and I move on to the third and final part of this series. Expect this story to wrap up in October, and Beauty Shines in Little Miracles to end in February 2014 if I'm lucky. **

**Chapter 16: The Smiling Zombie.**

**Love to all,**

**Bella**


	18. The Smiling Zombie

**Over 100,000 words?! What is this madness?! :D**

* * *

Happiness.

A little bubble of gold floating merrily in an ethereal plane of white light.

Then, the bubble began to grow, turning into a golden orb that shined and expanded, soon devouring everything in sight.

And Jenny found herself in that bubble, lazily drifting along in empty space, rejoicing in its warm and comforting embrace. And as she hung suspended in this space, she found herself giggling. There was no reason to, but the urge was there anyway, bubbling up to the surface to release its pure, innocent joy in the tinkling sounds of a song.

It was beautiful. The feeling of pure joy swelling in her heart, never relenting, only growing more and more until it felt like her heart would implode from the addition of more happiness. Happiness was everywhere: it wrapped around her skin, pressed against her lips, burrowed into her mind, and burned brightly in her soul. She smiled, closed her eyes, and threw her arms wide open, as if to embrace the raw emotion that surrounded her. She stayed like that for a while, even if time was but a moment in that place, for why should it have to change? Nothing ever needed to change here. Happiness never needed to leave.

However, that last part never even crossed Jenny's mind, simply because the concept was an impossibility to her. How could happiness go away when it was the only thing comprising her existence? Besides, it was all she ever needed, all she never wanted. It cradled her in its arms, siphoning away all the pain, all the sadness, all the tears. She couldn't remember what it was like to scream or cry. All she could do was smile and laugh.

Then, amidst the blissful feeling of drifting along aimlessly, there came the gradual feeling of something slowly anchoring her back to earth, to her previous state of consciousness. And while the bubble did not cease to encompass her, Jenny began to see things outside of the bubble.

And the first thing she saw was _her._

Lucia, the Bringer of Happiness. She thought her name with such sacred reverence, for she knew in her heart that she was the creator of her joy, the greatest gift she had been given. The feelings of trust and comfort from before her transformation where still there, but now they had been solidified, bound by an unbreakable tie of loyalty, that Lucia had become the center of her world. Jenny would do anything, _anything _for her. She knew that she easily could jump off a bridge, burn down a building, or shoot a baby girl in cold blood without blinking an eye if it would make Lucia smile.

And right now, Lucia was wearing the most awe-inspiring, triumphant smile as she gazed upon her latest creation. "Hello, Jenny."

Without even thinking, Jenny fell to her knees in a swift bow. "My Lady," she greeted, not daring to look upon her face, the face of beauty incarnate, yet wanting to more than anything in the world, except the knowledge of having her favor. "I am honored to abide in your presence."

"Stand. The ground is no place for someone as special as you," Lucia gently chastised, causing Jenny to spring to her feet with an almost sickening obedience. "Now, as I told you earlier, I have a special mission for you, and I'm afraid it can't wait any longer."

"Of course!" Jenny exclaimed eagerly. "What is it?"

"As has been downloaded into your brain during your Assimilation," Lucia began, "the Conclave of Lexicon is planning a certain coup d'etat to overthrow this planet's government. A peaceful one, but a coup nevertheless. And while the political leaders we've Assimilated will decimate most armies in a worldwide war against each other, we still have to factor the possibility and magnitude of human resistance before we can start recreating Earth in the image of Lexicon.

"We've worked too long and tirelessly to leave anything up to chance. And while powerful nonetheless, the glitch in halfling DNA leaves us prone to many human weapons, such as bombs, missiles, and even ordinary snipers and shotguns. In short, there is a still part of us that is human, and I simply can't allow that. I won't let Conclavian lives be spent more than already, not if I can find a solution. And that solution may very well come in the form of genetic alteration.

"And this is where you come in, Jenny. Our scientists have made many attempts to take halfling chromosomes and mesh them into an artificial Lexiconian strand of DNA, all without success, as the human and Lexiconian genes are inexplicably intertwined. This led us to believe that we need the DNA of a pure-blood Lexiconian. And the only Lexiconian left on this entire planet is Alexandria Theia, or WordGirl, as you probably know her by.

"What I need from you is to find her and bring her to me."

"I've thought endlessly about the best approach to bringing her to the Conclave," Lucia explained. "I didn't dare take her by force; her powers far exceed ours, and even then, it would be preferable if she was taken willingly. I couldn't Assimilate her, either, as the process is useless on halfling's and Lexiconians. Alexandria needs to be convinced to come of her own free will.

"But who would be the most suitable agent? You may not realize it now, but the Assimilation causes a perceptible change in people's mood and behavior. I couldn't Assimilate someone close to her, like a family member or friend, lest she pick up on the shifted personality and grow suspicious. And yet at the same time, I needed someone whom she would trust unconditionally.

"And this is what lead me to the Symbols of Beauty.

"Alexandria has only encountered you once, not nearly enough time to gauge your personality and notice the change of Assimilation. And yet, whom would she trust more than the embodiment of Love itself, an ideal she believes so strongly in?

"And so, it all becomes clear, doesn't it? All you have to do is bring Alexandria here to London, so we can leech the DNA from her and inject it into my Conclavians."

"L-Leech?" Jenny asked, uncertain about the word choice.

"Unfortunately, Lexiconian DNA does not operate under the normal rules of meiosis like normal human DNA," Lucia explained. "When the DNA is taken from her, she'll be drained of all her life energy." She sighed. "A lamentable necessity, to kill the only true remainder of the Lexiconian race we intend to recreate, but a noble sacrifice, for sure." Lucia stopped short, looked and Jenny intently. "You don't mind that, do you?"

"Oh no, of course not!" Jenny declared hastily. "WordGirl can die for all I care, as long as it helps you."

"Good," Lucia remarked with a smirk before pulling out a small GPS device. "My scouts have been tracking her," she said, pointing to a blinking red dot on the dashboard. "She was last reported to be seen in China, just a few miles south of central Shanghai. I'll leave the rest up to you. I trust you'll know what to do."

With a nod of affirmation, Jenny turned to leave the room, pausing only when she heard the quiet but definite sounds of footsteps and muttering voices up ahead, and the occasional screeching noise, like someone opening a rusty shed door, or sliding two iron blocks against each other.

Or unfurling a pair of metal wings.

"I told you that I didn't want any Conclavian blood to be spilled," Lucia said menacingly, "but I never said anything about those who foolishly choose to resist us.

"On your way out, don't be afraid to let some heads roll."

* * *

"Formation! Charge!"

Daphne's orders sent yet another battalion of troops to swarm the Conclave headquarters. All around Kerry and Syrena, fallen angels were shouting commands, preparing for battle, only to be ordered away to be sucked into another darkened tunnel leading to what could very well be a suicide mission.

"Come with me," a soft voice gently commanded. Turning around, the two girls looked up to see the face of a fallen angel, with a kind yet official face, framed by waves of chestnut hair and inset with two sparkling olive eyes. Despite probably being eons of years old, her entire demeanor was like that of a child, her rosy face like a china doll, and her graceful figure like a delicate ballerina. Even amidst the preparations of war, a warm smile teased her lips, and this was what gave Kerry and Syrena the confidence to follow her down the labyrinth of the London Underground.

"My name is Noemi," the fallen angel said jovially, shaking some red dust from her hair as she walked. "The Lost Angel of Prudence, and Daphne's head advisor, just in case you were wondering if you could trust me."

"Daphne's head advisor?" Kerry asked. "That's quite an honor."

Noemi's cheerful smile faltered for the slightest moment. "Well, I suppose it would be, expect I never really do anything. She never listens to me, or anyone else, really."

"Oh." Not knowing how else to respond, Kerry let the subject drop, only to have Syrena pick up a new one.

"Where are you taking us?"

"While the other fallen angels are keeping the halflings preoccupied," Noemi explained, keeping her head bent sadly, "I'll… I'll be taking you straight to… to Lucia."

"But it's not you that wants to do that, isn't it?" Syrena demanded, watching Noemi intently.

Noemi's eyes widened as she blushed sheepishly. "No, it isn't. I tried to talk Daphne out of it, but she wouldn't hear of it. This is all on Daphne's orders."

"Well, if you don't agree with her, why are you still doing it, then? Why not do what you want?"

"No, no, it's alright," Noemi amended hastily. "I'm sure she has a very good reason for doing this."

"But what about you?" Syrena demanded. "You must have had a good reason for not wanting to do this. And I know you have a very stupid reason for not telling us want it is."

"It doesn't matter," Noemi said. "I'm not the one in charge. Regardless of whether I'm right or wrong, it's not like I can disobey Daphne's orders."

"Syrena," Kerry began placatingly, "it's fine. You don't have to keep—"

"When you rebelled from Heaven all those millennia ago, you didn't think about whether you were wrong or right. You let the light in your heart guide you. I can tell Daphne wants you to make us do something reckless and stupid, something that could cost us our lives. Right now, we need that light to guide us again. Please."

Noemi sighed. "Daphne wants me to take you into the most heavily guarded part of the Conclave. She says that's where Lucia will be, but I've seen her before on one of my missions, and trust me, she's not the kind to let other people fight for her. She'll be in the last place anyone will expect her, and yet the place where she's most needed. That's definitely the Assimilation labs, where she commands every Assimilated official worldwide. She'll probably be using them to call in halfling reinforcements from all across Europe. And even if she's not there, the route is mostly unguarded…"

Syrena smiled. "Take us there."

* * *

"Everyone else must remain here!" Daphne ordered. "No more troops are to go into the tunnels!"

"But Daphne, what about the rest of us?" an angel shouted, broadly gesturing to about half of those who were left. "What will we do?"

"You're going to do what Lucia will never expect. The Conclave of Lexicon is already underground. She'll expect us to go through it, not under it."

"So you want us to tunnel underneath the London Underground?" he asked.

"Yes," replied Daphne. "But we're not going in alone."

At those words, part of the adjacent wall rolled back to reveal a towering, ominous object. Trapped in its shadow, all the fallen angels were bathed in its foreboding red glow, and dipped in this gory light, there could be seen a hint of crazed, maniacal triumph in Daphne's bloodthirsty eyes.

The angel who had first questioned Daphne looked on in disbelief. _Some people just want to watch the world burn._

* * *

The Assimilation labs looked like something straight out of a science fiction movie. Underneath eerily flickering lights, rows upon rows of hospital gurneys filled the room, and to Kerry and Syrena's horror, some were stained with blood or severely scratched, like someone had clawed at the metal frame in resistance. Beside each gurney was a tray filled with synthetic wires, injection tubes, and a menacing-looking drill splattered with blood. However, despite the sinister aura that pervaded the room, it could have passed for an ordinary hospital operation room.

In fact, the only aspect that set the Assimilation labs apart from the ordinary was a decidedly unordinary holographic model of a DNA strand that dominated the center of the room. Kerry and Syrena watched as the pulsating blue double helix twisted in an almost hypnotic motion around itself. An interesting note was that out of the thousands of bases that bridged across the double helix, a chosen few looked strangely brittle, almost transparent, as if they would shatter at the slightest touch.

"What _is_ this place?" Kerry wondered aloud, her scientific mind fascinated, her moral heart repulsed.

"Whatever it is, it's definitely creepy," Syrena stated decidedly. "The sooner we get out of here, the better. Noemi, do you… wait, Noemi?"

But the fallen angel was no longer standing by her, but rather in the very corner of the lab at the dashboard, where hundreds of tiny holographic screens, displaying what felt like every corner of the world, swirled around her at a rapid pace.

"Well, we do what we came here for," Noemi began, "but we should at least take advantage of our location before we go." With a yank of a cord, the thousands of holograms that filled the room began to sputter and fade into nothingness.

"I've shut down connections with Lucia's Assimilated leaders worldwide," Noemi explained briskly as she made her way back to Kerry and Syrena. "It's not much, and I'm sure she has many other methods of communicating with them, but it will be a detriment nevertheless."

"Well, that's good at least," Kerry remarked. "We were able to accomplish something of importance here in this place of creepy Assimilation freaks. It's just a shame that Lucia isn't here."

"Last time I checked, none of you are supposed to be here, either," called a voice from behind them. A voice that was demanding and hostile and familiar all at once. Blood frozen in place with the shock of being caught, the trio whipped around to see…

"Jenny!" Syrena cried in relief, flinging her arms around Jenny's neck. At her side, Kerry bounced up and down in excitement, while Noemi on the other hand remained distant, regarding Jenny with a guarded caution. "Oh my gosh, I've missed you so much! I'm so glad you're alright, I…"

Syrena cut short as Jenny instantly stiffened at her hug. Carelessly pushing Syrena away, Jenny said, "I believe such a reaction qualifies as a feeling of friendship. Know that the sentiment is not reciprocated. And you," she added, turning on Kerry, "I would prefer if you spoke of the method of my conversion with the reverence it deserves."

"J-Jenny?" Syrena stuttered in shock, nervously taking a step forward towards Jenny, now wary of this stranger with her best friend's face. "What happened to you?"

"Don't come any closer," Noemi warned the two suddenly, pushing them behind her and spreading her wings in a gesture of defense. "This girl's been Assimilated. She is an immense danger to all of us."

"Assimilated?" Kerry echoed, looking between Jenny and the DNA hologram. _Danger… Assimilated… _Those disjointed words, words that couldn't possibly be used in conjunction with Jenny, fluttered wildly in her head until they began to settle to form a coherent meaning. "No," she cried. "No!"

Meanwhile, Syrena was leading a one-girl resistance as she actively strained against Noemi, who had to physically drag the teenager away from Jenny. "No, no!" Syrena screamed, reaching out for Jenny's now vacantly happy face. "You're wrong! Jenny's not a danger to anyone! She'd never hurt us! Never! Let me go, let me go!"

But Noemi only mournfully repeated, "She's been Assimilated. What she would or wouldn't have done beforehand is obsolete. Now, she's not in control of what she does. Lucia is. If you don't believe me, look for yourself. Really look at this girl and ask yourself if she is the girl you once knew."

At first, neither girl wanted to admit it, but looking closer, the truth was undeniable. Wherever there had been vibrancy and life in the Element of Love, now only sickness and weariness remained. Her yellowish skin drooped from scraggly bones, and dark circles gouged into her sunken eyes, both indicating that she probably hadn't slept or ate once during her Assimilation. Her entire body sagged with fatigue, like a puppet with limp strings, an all too accurate portrayal of her mental state, and surely if she was in a proper state of mental perception, she would be experiencing an awful physical and emotional agony. She looked, in short, to be a wretched, pitiful excuse for life, and yet in her eyes there was an intense, almost crazed happiness that was more terrifying than anything else Kerry or Syrena could have imagined. Jenny had already fallen, and yet she still believed she was flying, which was the worst curse of all, for how could you save yourself when you didn't know you needed saving?

"All three of you are part of the Enclave," Jenny said, as if there had been no interruption in her orders. Her voice, while most likely meant to come out as angry or bitter, was injected with such a dazed happiness that Syrena wanted to cry. "I can't let any of you out of here alive."

That was the last straw for Noemi. With no other preemption, the fallen angel punched Jenny straight in the chest, sending her careening backwards into the wall, where she crumpled and lay motionless.

Screaming above Kerry and Syrena's protesting cries, Noemi said, "Go! Run, now! I'll hold her off, but you have to get out of here!"

Just as Noemi finished her plea, Jenny staggered to her feet. She stumbled about dazedly, still addled by the blow. Then, all of a sudden, her body instantly froze, like that of a statue. Her hands went to her head, griping it as if in pain, and then, she shook her head once before starting towards Noemi once more, this time with a clearly predatory tread that carried danger in every step.

In turn, Noemi braced herself for battle, with her wings fully flared and eyes blazing with heavenly wrath.

"No! Noemi, stop—!" but Kerry and Syrena's cries were cut off as they saw Jenny, not Noemi, deliver the first blow.

Jenny was fighting. Not attempting to fight, as any normal, untrained 15-year-old girl would do, but really fight. Her movements were quick, fierce, and decisive, all melding into a series of fluidly choreographed movements that spoke of such acute skill that they would probably take decades to master. But more than that, Jenny was _winning_. Even against the fluttering whirlwind of Noemi's punches and jabs, she somehow managed to impede them all, almost as she had the ability to predict them all. To an onlooker, it would have reminiscent to a game of chess, with each of Jenny's blows like a chess piece smashing through Noemi's defenses. Beads of sweat trickled down Noemi's neck as she scrunched her face in concentration, but even then, the strain was beginning to show. Her movements were jerkier than before, her knees started to buckle, and her chest heaved as she panted from exertion. Meanwhile, Jenny showed no signs of weariness, only delivering punch after punch without even blinking. Noemi had managed to slip past Jenny's defenses several times, but even when purple and blue bruises began to blossom on her arms, Jenny showed no sign of pain. Now, she was nothing more than a smiling zombie.

"Her mind's been downloaded with Conclavian information," Noemi shouted to Kerry and Syrena, who were standing by in horror, not daring to interfere. "She now has all the knowledge of the Conclave of Lexicon's top fighters. That combined with her immunity to pain, and I can't beat her. You have to run, now!"

"We're not leaving you or Jenny!" Syrena protested.

When Jenny laughed, it was cold and cruel. "You cannot hope to stop me," she declared to Noemi, paying no attention to Kerry or Syrena. With a flick of her wrist, Jenny sent Noemi flying backwards into the wall, where she lay crumpled and thoroughly broken. A small rivulet of blood trickled from her temple.

"Jenny, stop it, stop it!" Syrena screamed as Kerry ran to check Noemi's vital signs. "Don't you remember us? We're the Elements of Hope and Light! We saved the world from Miss Power together! We're you're best friends! Come on and remember us already!"

But Jenny _couldn't _remember any of it. Every single memory of hers had either been distorted or erased entirely so as to delude herself that her life had consisted of nothing but steady happiness, free from any type of pain, even the pain that came with loving others unconditionally.

"I don't have time to deal with either of you now," Jenny said. "I must retrieve Princess Alexandria at once—"

_Slap._

Jenny recoiled in surprise as the sound reverberated throughout the now dead silent room. She gently probed the throbbing red hand print that was splayed across her cheek, while Syrena balled her hands into fists, her entire body quaking with anger.

"No," Syrena commanded, her voice venomously quiet in a way that drained all the sound and color and light from the room. "You're not leaving us, Jenny. I won't let you. If you want to leave, you'll have to shoot me in the heart first and walk over my dead body, because true friends don't leave each other unless it's for a damn good reason. Getting whisked away to Japan for four months is a good one, but letting some psychopath turn you into a brain-dead zombie is _not good enough_!"

Jenny coldly stared in silence.

At this, Syrena roughly grabbed Jenny by the shoulders and started shaking her violently, desperate to hear the rattling sound of the loving person she once knew. "Come on, Jenny; you're the strongest person I know! You have to fight this! Remember the power of love and all that to break free! Isn't that how all those cheap fairy tales end? Come on, Jenny; we need you! _JENNY, COME BACK TO US!"_

But Jenny only pushed Syrena to the ground and walked out the door with a perfectly ignorant smile on her vacant face.

Knees buckling from the ordeal, Syrena cascaded to the floor in a puddle of limp blonde hair and silver tears.

"Syrena?" Kerry shouted, running over to her while carrying an unconscious Noemi in her arms. "Syrena, are you alright?"

"Yeah," Syrena sniffed, wiping away the remainder of her tears. "Will Noemi be okay?"

"I think so," Kerry replied uncertainly. "As far as I can tell, her skull wasn't cracked, but she'll probably be out for a couple hours."

"Then that'll give us all the time we need," Syrena said. Her blue eyes were alight with an electric gold fire of determination. "Jenny's going after WordGirl, and we're the only ones who can stop her before she gets there. We need to find Jenny and then do whatever it takes to bring her home."

Syrena fell crestfallen at Kerry's silence. "You don't believe we can."

"Syrena, I—"

"No, you don't have to say anything. I get it. I mean, deep down, I don't think I really believe it myself. Maybe our story is just one of those stories in between that's supposed to lead up to a greater destiny for someone else. Maybe we're not meant to be the heroes. Maybe Jenny's not supposed to be saved. But… but I can't help but try, you know? I… I just can't imagine… with Jenny gone…"

Kerry placed a gentle hand on Syrena's shoulder. "Syrena, you know I'd trust you through anything," Kerry said encouragingly. "And I think you're right. There's always that light at the end of the tunnel, right? All we have to do is go out on a limb and believe with all our hearts that it exists, that we can find it, that we can create it. Light will lead the way, hope will grant it strength, and love will bring us home. Before all this ever happened, I never would have thought it possible, but I believe that now; I really do."

And as Kerry spoke, a strange and mystical light enveloped the two girls in its glow.

"Wings of Hope!"

From each of their backs there bloomed into existence a pair of beautiful, delicate silver wings, so fragile and yet so powerful.

Syrena looked at them and smiled. "Don't worry," she said, "we'll find Jenny. And I know just where to start."

And with Syrena leading the way, and the magic of hope lifting them up, they began their journey towards home.

* * *

"I _still _can't believe we're in an entirely other dimension," Kerry said as the two stood outside the front door of none other than Theodore Tobey McCallister himself. "Explain to me again how that happened?"

"Meh, something with the time-space continuum and all that," Syrena waved off nonchalantly. "I wouldn't recommended thinking about it too much; otherwise your brain might implode from all the parallel universe paradoxes."

Ignoring Kerry's still mystified expression as she tried to wrap her mind around the concept, Syrena knocked on the front door once, then twice, the three times before patiently waiting for a reply.

"I don't think he's home," Kerry said finally, already turning to go.

"No way!" Syrena exclaimed in irritation. "I did not come all the way out here just to turn back now! If no one's going to open the door, then I'll have to open it myself!"

Syrena braced herself as she prepared to ram her entire body into the door in order to send it crashing down.

"Wait!" Kerry yelled. "There's no need to break the door down! Seriously, if you're so insistent on this, just pick the lock!"

Pushing Syrena aside, Kerry knelt down and, taking a clip from her hair, wiggled it into the keyhole. After a few minutes, the door neatly swung open.

"My way would've been faster," Syrena grumbled as she followed Kerry inside.

Thankfully, there was no one inside the house to see two strange girls break in, but, on the other hand, well… there was no one inside the house, which was detriment when searching for someone.

"See, told you," Kerry said after taking a brief survey of the first level rooms. "There's no one here. Now, maybe there's another—"

"Wait," Syrena said, putting up a silencing hand as she strained her ears for a previously unnoticed sound. "I hear something upstairs, don't you?"

"Syrena, I don't have wolf hearing," Kerry pointed out bluntly.

"You don't need it," Syrena countered. "Just listen."

With a sigh, Kerry closed her eyes, blocking out all the distracting sights around you so that very soon, the only two entities encompassing her entire world were the sounds of her breathing and the beating of her heart. But as she listened longer, a new sound also entered the field of existence. It started out as wispy and muted as a whisper, but steadily grew in crescendo until Kerry could make out the melody of a piano, only to be accompanied by… singing… and laughter?

Nodding in silent consensus, Kerry and Syrena quietly ascended the stairs leading to the second level. They stopped at the end of the hallway, where the music was floating from the door, ever so slightly ajar. Without the moment's hesitation in their curiosity, Kerry and Syrena pushed the door open wider, just enough to peek inside…

Tobey had changed drastically from when they had last seen him two years ago. At first glance, one would say it was the fact that he had switched out his glasses for contacts, or his tacky sweater for a plain grey T-shirt, but in fact, it was much more than that. It was written in the less pronounced features: how his smile was more lighthearted and genuine, without the backdrop of devilish cunning; how he no longer sat perfectly erect like in proud and stuck-up days of old, but swayed cheerfully in rhythm with the music; and how his fingers no longer tinkered over the gears of an automaton, but rather the keys of a piano. And perhaps this had something to do with the fact that for once, he was not accompanied by one of his robotic creations, but a living, breathing girl.

She sat atop the lid of the piano, her shimmering gold hair flowing mesmerizingly down her shoulders as she swayed back and forth. Everything about her demure figure spoke of grace and gentleness, like an enchanting dancer that simply exuded goodness. This was only heightened by her singing, which sound less like the voice of a teenage girl and more like a chorus of angels. Apparently, Tobey believed similarly, as he oftentimes looked up from his sheet music to gaze at her in awestruck wonder.

And this was how Tobey noticed Kerry and Syrena peeking at the door.

The piano music came to a screeching halt; however, the singer, who, lost in the beauty of the music, had kept her eyes closed the entire time, sang acapella for a few more bars before noticing the absence of her accompaniment. Then, she too let her eyelids flicker open to notice the intruders. While she looked at Kerry and Syrena with nothing but confusion, Tobey regarded their arrival with defeated acceptance and… fear?

"S-Sorry, to bother you," Kerry said. She pushed the door completely open, figuring there was no use hiding their intentions now, "But we really need to talk to Tobey now."

To their surprise, Tobey didn't protest. Turning to the singer, he asked, "Ella, I think this is enough for today, alright? We'll meet again on Thursday for another practice."

With a nod, Ella silently hopped down from her perch on the piano, grabbed her music, and in a whirlwind of soft violet skirts, she flounced gracefully from the room.

As soon as the front door clicked shut, Tobey let out a low sigh. "I expected you would have come here eventually, but you couldn't have had worse timing. Honestly, did you even check to see who was home before you barged in here?"

Ignoring Tobey's disgruntlement, Syrena teased, "And pass up the chance to see your girlfriend? Ha! Not in a million years!"

Tobey's cheeks turned into flaming hot papers. "Wh-What? No, we're not dating or anything! We just partnered up for the school talent show!"

"Suuuure, Tobey," Kerry said, waggling her eyebrows.

"For goodness' sake, I'm not going to explain myself to a couple of imbeciles. Just go ahead and ask the question I know you came here to ask so we can get this over with."

_Yikes, no beating around the bush then, _Kerry thought to herself. "Where's WordGirl?" she demanded.

"And there's the question of the hour!" Tobey declared with a triumphant sadness. "Or, every hour for a while, really. I figured you'd notice something was wrong eventually. Sadly, I have no idea where she disappeared to."

"Wait, how do you know about this?" Kerry asked, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. "We just found out today."

Tobey squeezed his eyes shut, as if the thoughts coursing through his mind were causing him physical agony. With a heavy sigh, he went over to his writing desk and returned with a small scrap of paper.

"Read it," he said, holding it away from his body as if it carried a disease. Not knowing what to expect, Kerry and Syrena scanned the note, their eyes steadily growing wider until they were like saucers.

"Lexicon?" Syrena asked in disbelief. "B-But that's impossible! We _saw _the GenonaXBS blow the entire planet to bits!"

"I don't know how it happened," Tobey replied, "but she wasn't seeing things that night. NASA's database officially states the sighting of Planet KD4559, the documented name for Lexicon, the night WordGirl sent this letter. I went and saw pictures of the night sky myself, and it was there."

"When did she send this letter?" Kerry interrogated.

Tobey shuffled his feet uncomfortably. "About six weeks ago, on New Year's Eve."

"What?!" Syrena demanded. "You've known she was missing for _six weeks, _and you didn't do anything about it?!"

"Hey, I've been working on it, okay?" Tobey remarked defensively. "It's hard to lead a worldwide search for a Lexiconian by myself. Luckily, I didn't have to do it singlehandedly. I was able to get myself a second pair of hands. Okay, well, technically he has four, but that's beside the point…"

Looking up at Kerry and Syrena's perplexed expressions, the boy genius sighed.

"There's something you need to see."

* * *

**Originally, I intended for the last scene to go with next week's chapter, but then it screwed up with the chapter lengths. Plus, I really didn't want to end on what is mostly likely the cheesiest scene that will ever come out of this story, so yeah, sorry if the ending felt abrupt.**

**I shipped Tobey with a Mary Sue OC. Wow, I've come a long way over the past year...**

**Chapter 17 will come... maybe next Wednesday. As of right now, at least, I'm planning on posting it then, but I also want to take my time with Chapter 18, and I also want to _finally _get around to finishing that MLP two-shot I'm working on. (Oh yeah, and that big Theology paper too, but that's unimportant. :D) So hopefully I'll have time to work on all that; if not, I'll just postpone the next update for a few days.**

**Chapter 17: To Unite or Destroy**

**Love to all,**

**Bella**


	19. To Unite or Destroy

The interior of WordGirl's Super Secret Spaceship Hideout looked more and more like a haunted child's amusement park the further and further Kerry and Syrena delved into it. Flickering lights cast ghostly shadows over the jungle gym, formerly cute stuffed animals leered eerily at them from the darkness, and unicorn figures stared with vacant, beady, jeweled eyes bathed in a crimson red glow. It was haunted and desolate, a morbid distortion of its cheerful ambiance in the TV show. The air bore a cold and heavy weight that pressed upon their lungs, and the darkness pressed upon their eyes like an impenetrable blindfold. Everything was cloaked in a muffled silence, leaving the only sounds to be the steadily footfalls of the intruders upon this graveyard, this mourning place, this dead happiness left in disarray.

"What happened to this place?" Kerry asked, her voice barely rising above a whisper.

"We haven't really bothered to keep up the place," Tobey replied. "And considering what we're doing, it's… fitting to keep it this way until… until she comes back."

Tobey led the two girls down more winding corridors that either had thought possible to fit into one spaceship, until finally, they stopped outside a door. Not bothering to even knock, Tobey pushed the door open, revealing what lay inside.

According to what knowledge they had from the show, Kerry and Syrena assumed this was the main crime-fighting database, although it looked nothing like that now. Where the Crime Detector had once displayed a map of Fair City along with incoming police reports, there was now a grid of at least fifty cameras, relaying images from Rome, Tokyo, New York City, Paris, and every city in between. A series of new robotic contraptions had been added onto the system's mainframe, turning it into a conglomeration of human and Lexiconian technology. This made the dozens of thick, seemingly ancient tomes strewn across the floor look all the more out of place, even if they hadn't been written in strange, unreadable runes.

Well, that wasn't entirely correct. While the foreign markings would assuredly baffle the three human newcomers, there was one creature who was zipping through them at a feverish pace.

This creature, of course, was Captain Huggyface.

He was yet another altered aspect of this reality when compared to his television portrayal. His warm brown fur was now spotted with white hairs of old age, or maybe it was the result of the constant stress he had been under these past six weeks. Where he had once had an endearing amount of pudginess, there was now a creature so thin that Kerry thought the ends of his ribs would stab him from the inside out, while Syrena worried that his spindly limbs would snap like twigs whenever he turned a page. His uniform sagged limply off his haggard form, and his slouched position in his chair coupled with the prominent grey bags around his eyes both gave the impression that he hadn't slept in days. It was a pitiful sight, but it was not what Kerry and Syrena noticed first.

What they did notice was the sinister metal device clamped around Huggy's head.

"What _is _that thing?!" Syrena demanded in righteous anger, pointing at the offending contraption. "It looks like a torture device! What have you been doing to him, you monster?!"

"Is this your plan?!" Kerry chimed in. "To force him to stay here and slave away working to find WordGirl, all because of your morbid obsession for her? And you thought we would go along with it?! I can't believe you, you foul, you monstrous—"

"It's alright, girls," said an unknown voice. "It's not meant to hurt me. In fact, it's proved invaluable in our efforts."

The two girls swiveled around in surprise to find Huggy talking, not in his regular squeaks, but in real, intelligible human words.

"That's the Translingual version 9.45.1," Tobey explained. "One of my finest creations. It has the ability to translate any known oral language into English, even Moyke-Lexi dialect. I can't tell you how much of a godsend it's been; for the first few days of our collaboration, I had to rely on nothing more than rudimentary charades! Such an ineffective method of communication, considering what we're trying to do here."

"But what _are_ you trying to do here?" Kerry inquired.

"Well, of course, our primary goal is to locate WordGirl," Tobey explained, gesturing to the cameras displayed on the Crime Detector. "I have about 600 robots sending us live visual feed from every major city worldwide. We're then taking the images and scanning them with face recognition software. Then, we've recently deployed voice recognition technology into all major telephone providers, all in the hopes of pinpointing her location."

"Our other objective," Tobey continued, indicating the Lexiconian tomes, "is to figure out why Lexicon reappeared and then disappeared again. We were tracking its appearance in the sky, and while it was perfectly visible for the first two weeks or so, there were some nights when it was fuzzy and opaque, and others when it would flicker in and out of existence all together. For the last few days, we haven't been able to see it at all. It's worrying him—" Tobey jabbed a thumb at Huggy, who was still frantically turning pages, not even acknowledging them, "—and of course, it really freaked out WordGirl."

"But why?" Kerry asked. "If Lexicon's back for some reason, isn't that a good thing? Huggy and WordGirl should be happy!"

"It's not like that," Huggy cut in, not taking his eyes off the books. "It's an omen, a terrible one, really. About a year ago, I taught her about Lexiconian culture and beliefs. We don't have a proper religion, and prophecies hold very little meaning for us, but still, there is this one renown prophecy in the Book of Truth, similar to the Book of Revelation. Parts of it have been lost over the hundreds of millenniums since it was written, but essentially, it goes that the resurrection of Lexicon will bring about a great evil from the earth, and that the Last True Daughter of Lexicon will unite with the one she hates the most to make a choice, one that could divide or unite this world forever. However, she is destined to make the wrong decision, for the Mistress of Corrupted Love will lead her to ultimate destruction. She must think the prophecy is about her, and… oh, why did I let her read it!"

Great, heaving sobs wracked the grieving monkey. "I told her not to pay attention to it, but I could tell it was something that bothered her, and I still didn't do anything! Now she's alone and scared out of her mind; who knows what could've happened to her already? And… the worst part is… she felt she couldn't talk to me about any of this, and she was right! For the past two years, all I've done is push her away! I… I always treasured her for what she was, not who she was. To me, she was always the princess, the last strand of hope to return home, but I never saw her as a person, as the girl who screamed and cried and laughed at my side. She relied on me, she _loved _me, but I never cared! I shouted and fought and blamed her for Lexicon's destruction when none of it was her fault! And now she's gone, and I… I…"

Kerry widened her eyes in disbelief as she saw Tobey go over to comfort the wailing monkey. Where they had once held repulsion for each other, there now only remained brotherly fidelity as the two fiercely embraced, as if their entire world would shatter if they so much as loosened their grip. They were united in a way, perhaps not by love for each other, but unwavering faith and duty to another despite any adversity, which in itself, perhaps, was also a form of love.

_Love…_

Even when Syrena went over to comfort Huggy, Kerry remained rooted in place as a tornado of thoughts spiraled through her head. _No, that can be possible…_

"Huggy," Kerry asked, choosing her words cautiously with the influx of each new, worrying possibility, "does WordGirl know every single part of this prophecy just as you said it?"

"Well, no," Huggy admitted. "I never really covered the prophecy with her. It's a very long work, and it only comes up in scattered bits and fragments throughout the Book of Truth. I suppose the only part she wouldn't be familiar is the last part, about the Mistress of Corrupted Love being the path to destruction. That's contained in the very last part of the Book of Truth, where it describes the most disturbing, goriest parts of the Lexiconian Apocalypse, something I'd never let her read… Kerry, are you alright?"

Kerry's blood had frozen in her veins at Huggy's words, the words she had been dreading from the very start. "The Mistress of Corrupted Love," Kerry just barely managed to choke out. "That's Jenny. She's been brainwashed by the Conclave of Lexicon, and she's going after WordGirl. If WordGirl doesn't know who Jenny really is in the prophecy, she'll be completely unprepared to face her…"

This revelation spurred Tobey to action, as he turned to the monitor of cameras. "Face recognition software initiate," Tobey said. "Name: Jennifer Swan."

For sixty agonizing seconds, everyone waited with bated breath as the supercomputer processed Tobey's request. After what seemed like an eternity, the screen's pixels realigned themselves to form the profile image of Jenny's face, a single surveillance camera, and a map with a single blinking dot.

"Jenny's just a few miles south of central Shanghai," Tobey reported, "and if she's there…"

"Alexandria is, too," Huggy concluded.

"Oh gosh, I hope we can get there before it's too late!" Syrena cried, greatly worried. "But if we leave now, we just might be able to make it—"

_Come back. Come back to the Conclave of Lexicon._

"…back to the Conclave of Lexicon," Syrena finished, her voice breathy and distant. Both she and Kerry's eyes were glazed over in a vacant stare as they spun in one, simultaneous, fluid motion to start toward the exit of the spaceship.

"Wait, what?" said Tobey, leaping to his feet in alarm and confusion. "Kerry, Syrena?"

When the two girls continued to ignore him, Tobey stepped in front of them and threw his arms wide, blocking their path.

"Hey, where do you two think you're going?!" Tobey demanded.

_Come back. Come back at all costs._

"Get out of our way," Syrena ordered in a strangely mechanical tone. Before Tobey had time to respond, Syrena roughly grabbed him by the collar and, with her eyes flashing a dull, sickly gold, threw him ten feet across the room, where he lay unconscious. Meanwhile, Kerry sneaked up behind Huggy and delivered a forceful kick to the head. With an ominous crack, a trickle of blood leaked from his forehead.

Swift, efficient, and unthinking.

With a groan of pain, Tobey's eyes flickered open just in time to see Kerry and Syrena head for the door.

The last thing he saw before his vision faded to black were the pale white scars from Daphne's blood oath of fidelity glowing abnormally bright on their wrists.

_Come back. The war is coming._

* * *

Becky sighed in exhaustion the moment she entered her hotel room. Of course, her day of working as a Mandarin to English interpreter hadn't been physically taxing, but it certainly had been a strain on her mind as well as her patience as her thoughts constantly drifted to places that now weighed heavy on her heart. Regardless, it was still a relief to come home.

Kicking off her shoes, the first thing Becky did was proceed to her bedside vanity, where she yanked off the itchy ink-black wig she had resolved to wear around Shanghai to mask her identity. She yanked out the bobby pins keeping her hair in place and allowed her natural mocha-colored tresses to cascade down her shoulders. How easy it was to master deceptions of appearance. She sighed to herself, wondering how many secret identities she would accumulate over her life, and whether or not it would come to a point where she would no longer be able to determine who was her true persona.

Furthermore, had that point already arrived?

With a splash of water to wash away any residue of concealing makeup, Becky completed the transition from Zì Nuháita to Princess Alexandria, the lost Lexiconian on a mission to save the world from a prophecy of evil.

With a twist of the latch, Becky flung open the windows that looked over the bustling metropolis of Shanghai. Looking down at the glaring neon lights and the orange blurs of cars on the highway, she remembered how terrified she had been when she first arrived in the city after flying halfway across the globe. She had found it so huge and intimidating, making Fair City look like a rural farm town in comparison.

She didn't want to think about what Fair City was like without her. She didn't want to think about all the crime, all the heartache, all the responsibility she had left behind. Maybe they hadn't realized it yet, but they were all better off without her around. The cuckoo had to leave the nest sometime, right?

_Please, forgive me_. _I just need to figure this out. I need to know what everything means. I have to find out… if you were better off without me after all._

Turning her attention to the nighttime skies, Becky took out her telescope. Well, it wasn't her telescope, really. She had stolen it from the spaceship hideout, so technically, it was Huggy's. But then again, she had also swiped 5,000 dollars from her parent's bank account in order to settle in Shanghai, so she probably had to think about bigger thefts than an alien telescope. After all, 5,000 dollars was a lot of allowance money.

Lost in thought, Becky absently traced her finger along the Aph-Lexi runes on the side of the telescope before assembling it and tilting it towards the night sky like she had done every night for the past six weeks. The specially designed lens pushed past the light pollution of Shanghai to reveal a sky filled with millions of glittering diamonds. It was magical, really, how they hid themselves away from the prying eyes of populated cities. Stars were not meant for crowds to gawk at; rather, they were the manifestation of secrets, hopes, and dreams, meant only for a chosen soul who believed in the miracles of the heart and was open to seeing them.

But Becky thought nothing of this miraculous sight, for her focus was not set upon the shining pool of thousands of stars, but rather a single vacant point, nestled in between three brightly shining stars.

"It's not there again," Becky wondered aloud. "But it was four nights ago…. Oh, this doesn't make any sense! Planets don't just fizzle out and disappear like this, especially not when they're already supposed to have been blown to bits!"

Growing all the more agitated with this inconsistency, Becky pulled open her bedside drawer and pulled out the Book of Truth.

Becky placed the ancient book on her lap with the utmost delicacy for the worn and weathered pages. This must have already been hundreds of years old on Lexicon, and being hurtled millions of light years inside a crashing spaceship probably didn't do it any favors. Like a child peeling off a Bandaid, Becky opened the black, leather-bound cover and flipped to a page she knew all too well.

The sinister prophecy of Lexicon's Beautiful Miracle.

"_Ni alte hu ni frolltra oscure wev-erechen arnda xid hul ni volvur indesamtri…" _Becky read in Lexiconian. "_The rise of the corpse world wrapped in death will herald the evil from the place that took her unjustly… The last daughter will make a choice… to unite or destroy…_"

Becky slammed the book shut in frustration. "How am I supposed to unite or destroy a planet that can't decide whether or not to exist?!" Becky looked down at the book, then up at the sky, then back down again. "There has to be more to it than this," she said, flipping through the pages at random. "Maybe—"

Becky's heart froze at the sound of a knock at her door.

Room service. Hadn't she already made it perfectly clear she didn't want to be interrupted at this hour?! "Gǔn kāi! Kèfáng fúwù bùxiǎng yào!" she shouted through the door. "Go away! Room service is not wanted at this time!"

However, instead of hearing the sound of footsteps receding down the hallway, they instead came closer, as with a click the door swung open to reveal…

"Jenny?" Becky breathed in disbelief at the sight of the Element of Love at her doorstep. "I… What are you doing here? How did you find me? I…" Becky's eyes followed Jenny's line of sight straight to the open Lexiconian tome. "Oh, th-that's just… I… um… some light reading on vacation?"

"It's okay, Becky," Jenny said with a comforting smile. "I know what's going on; that's why I'm here. I know what's happening with Planet Lexicon's reappearance, and you were right; it does have to do with the prophecy of Lexicon's Beautiful Miracle."

Becky had to physically push her jaw back into place. "How… how in the world did you know that?"

"I… I've come into contact with some people," Jenny explained. "A group of people, of half-Lexiconians stranded on earth because they were unwanted back on Lexicon. They know what's going on with all this, and they're ready to help you figure it out."

"They… they survived what happened two years ago?"

"No, they've been living on Earth for about two centuries. But their knowledge of Lexicon is still current, and if you come with me, you can discover so much more about your home and your race."

Becky chewed her lip in silence, still not completely sold on the arrangement.

"Isn't this what you've always wanted?" Jenny asked. "I know your home is here on Earth, and I'm not denying you that ability, but there is still a part with you that resides with Lexicon. The same applies to them. Your genetics may say otherwise, but at heart, you're a halfling just like them, with a foot in both worlds.

"They also know what it's like to be rejected because of this. Every single person there has been turned away from their family because of what they are. They've had to live underground, hiding who they are every day. They don't want to live that life anymore. They don't want to ignore that part of themselves. They don't want to be alone, but it seems like you still do."

"I'm not alone," Becky said reflexively.

"It doesn't look like that to me," Jenny replied with a wave to the empty hotel room. WordGirl, you ran halfway across the world because you knew there was no one you could turn to for help. I'm not saying I can bring you back to the life you knew, but I'm offering you the chance to start a new one, a better one. It's… it's changed me, being part of them, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. If you come with me, you can find that kind of protection, that security can only come from being around people like you, who understand you, who would do anything to help you. They've come together when the world abandoned them, and I'm giving you a chance to be a part of that." Taking the Lexiconian's hands in hers, Jenny stared straight into WordGirl's eyes.

"I'm giving you a chance to come home."

There was a long silence, in which Becky's eyes continuously switched back and forth between Jenny and the stars above.

"You… you have no idea how much I've wished for a place like that to be real," Becky finally said. "Ever since I found out the truth about where I came from, I always hoped I would find someone else like me. I didn't want to be special or unique, because all that really meant is that I would be lonely. And… And now you suddenly show up, just when I had given up all hope of anything like that ever happening, to tell me that it's real? Why should I believe you? How do I know you're telling the truth?"

Jenny smiled. Now was the time to fully implement the reason she'd been chosen for this mission. "Because I'm the Element of Love," she said, her voice alight with facades of innocence and lies of sincerity. "Why would you ever doubt me?"

* * *

"Now, sooner or later, they'll ask for a sample of your DNA," Jenny explained as she led Becky through the torch-lit tunnels of the London Underground. "Don't be afraid to give it to them, though. As the first Lexiconian they'll have come into contact with, they'll just want your DNA for scientific experiments, that's all."

Jenny could have danced as Becky nodded her head in compliance. _She doesn't even know! _Jenny thought gleefully to herself. _She doesn't know the loss of her DNA will kill her! _

Continuing onward, Jenny led Becky down many spiral staircases, downward and downward until they came to a stop outside of Lucia's throne room. Jenny's hand quivered in anticipation as she threw the doors wide open and stepped inside.

Immediately, the air around her felt so much lighter in Lucia's presence. Moving, thinking, breathing became so much less of a concern as the golden aura that emanated from Lucia washed over Jenny, even further solidifying the bubble of happiness that encompassed all parts of Jenny perception. She was about to fall into a low bow until Lucia beat her to it, the regal leader of the Conclave of Lexicon folding into a perfect, graceful bow as soon as she set eyes on WordGirl.

"Princess Alexandria," Lucia said, the name spoken with such awe and reverence that it was the first time Becky actually felt like royalty. "It is an honor to finally meet you."

Turning her attention to Jenny, Lucia added, "Impressive work, Jennifer. I don't believe I can properly express my gratitude to you for finally bringing the lost princess of Planet Lexicon to me."

After a short period of silence, a brief flash of irritation crossed Lucia's face as Jenny stared at her with a blissful smile on her lips. "Let go of the princess now, Jenny," Lucia prodded gently.

Snapping back to reality, Jenny realized to her embarrassment that she was still keeping a firm grip on WordGirl's wrist. She loosened her hold, preparing to let go, when—

_No! Don't let go, please! _cried a weak, desperate voice inside Jenny's head. _You don't know what you're doing! This is your last chance to save yourself. If you hand WordGirl over to Lucia, you'll lose your only chance to break free of her hold and return to the person you once were._

Break free? What a foreign concept that was! As if Jenny had any desire to break free! That was the whole reason why she had chosen to be Assimilated in the first place. To keep on fighting for truth and love was too much of a burden, and what good would it do anyway? Having to think or feel or reason only caused unnecessary pain, and desire for free will would only cause heartache. Jenny only knew and cared for two simple truths: She had been unhappy before, and she was happy now. What more was there to want? She had already saved the world from Miss Power; wasn't that enough? Didn't she deserve to be happy doing what Lucia wanted? Why shouldn't she hand over WordGirl?

_I'm sorry. I just want to be happy._

Still, there was still a resilient part buried in her mind that refused to let go of WordGirl's arm. She clung to it in desperation, like a lifeline, as if the very world would cease to exist if she let go.

And it did.

The second Jenny released her hold on WordGirl's arm, she felt an unknown force sending her mind and consciousness reeling backward into the golden bubble from which she had first been created. Gold, white, pink, and a whole spectrum of colors flashed before Jenny's eyes, only to break and give way to an all-consuming blackness.

Jenny consciousness was choppy, fading into stasis at random intervals. The lights swirling inside her head became indistinguishable between the imaginary lights of her unstable reality. Lights sprang up from her fingertips, only to grow and consume her in a fire as cold as ice. She was racing upward, her heart soaring in her chest, only to tear at the seams and explode into millions of tiny pink flowers that then withered in the darkness. She was dancing as through space she fell, the screams caught in her throat and morphed into a haunting melody that she couldn't hear. And yet, through it all, she was filled with the same happiness that had been infused into her in the waking world. Still, she was becoming delusional, trapped in this strange limbo of her mind, and it seemed like an eternity that she had been in this fever dream.

However, amidst this confusion of her own mind, the first factual thing Jenny became solidly aware of was the endless expanse of space all around her. However, it was not like the outer space she knew. There were no stars, no planets, and no satellites of any sort. All that remained was empty, dark space, very similar to that from her own delusions. And yet, she knew that this darkness was not the product of her own mind, but someone else's. This wasn't reality, but it was a place that existed within the dimension of the human mind. Unlike a dream, however, things could happen in this place.

Things that would alter the course of Jenny's life forever.

Turning around, Jenny saw a star, a bright white ball of light streaking its rays against the darkness. It was a familiar light, one that resonated in the depths of Jenny's heart with its familiarity, and yet it was also a cold light that filled her with dread. Slowly, it drew closer to Jenny, or perhaps Jenny grew closer to it, but either way, they met in the middle, separated by mere feet of infinite space.

Then slowly, the star tore itself down the middle to reveal a gaping abyss of a tunnel that stretched for miles. Soon, there appeared a single flickering candle bearing the same cold light of the star. As it made its way through the tunnel, it gradually illuminated the silhouette of the candle bearer.

The figure was decidedly feminine, with a snow-white dress with elegant lace hems. The steady steps of her polished black dress shoes echoed disconcertingly through the endless space. Waves of ebony black hair tumbled far past her shoulders and perfectly matched the two pools of ink that were her eyes. However, even with all these details, it was only when the candlelight dripped onto the mysterious girl's hand that Jenny was able to place her identity.

Twirled in her hand was a single blood red rose.

"Rosalie?" Jenny breathed in astonishment at the girl she watched die in her arms now standing before her. "Why are you here?"

Jenny would have run up and hugged her except for the fact that this did not seem to be a happy reunion. Rosalie's lips were drawn tight with disapproval, her eyes were hardened into unfeeling orbs of onyx, and when she spoke, her voice was not empathetic or kind.

"I'm here to tell you that you failed," Rosalie said emotionlessly. Not waiting for a response, she stretched out her hand for Jenny to grab onto. "Come with me. We have a lot to talk about."

* * *

**And thus is the return of my all-time favorite character! I've been looking forward to this chapter for quite awhile!**

**Unfortunately, next chapter is going to be delayed for several reasons, mainly because I need to do more planning on the finale, especially on what WordGirl's role is going to be, and also because I want to take my time with this and make sure it's good. Chapter 18 will come in two weeks, which will hopefully give me enough time to get caught up with everything.**

**To make up for the delay, here's an excerpt from Chapter 18, "The Heart is a Mirror":**

"No, I mean down there, on Earth," Jenny clarified. "Now that I'm… g-gone, what's going to happen to everyone?"

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about them," Rosalie said absentmindedly. "The spirit of love will find a new bearer, and then the three of them will join together, save the world, and skip off into the sunset without a care in the world."

"But I won't be a part of it," Jenny acknowledged sadly.

"No, you won't," Rosalie conceded. "Tragic isn't it, how expendable we all are? We're nothing but pawns in a greater design, thrown aside once our purpose is exhausted. Although I suppose that applies to everyone. No matter what we've done or how important we are, we'll all eventually be forgotten. Life won't stop for us; it'll just keep chugging by, leaving us alone at the station. When words and people and memories fade, we'll die with them. In time, no one will ever care for our names."

**See you all again on October 2nd!**

**Love to all,**

**Bella**


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